


Cullen Rutherford: A Witcher in Thedas

by Eravalefantasy



Series: Cullen Rutherford: A Witcher in Thedas [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragon Age/ Witcher, Explicit Language, F/M, Witcher!Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 143,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5359280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yennelyn of House Trevelyan is missing. The Conclave exploded. The Nightingale summons a Witcher to aid her cause as Ferelden falls apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Witcher in Thedas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InannaAthanasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InannaAthanasia/gifts).



> For InannaAthanasia, for the artwork that inspired me to start this story  
> 

Yen’s missing. She has been for weeks. How did I lose one of the most powerful mages in Thedas, you ask? If I knew that I wouldn’t be sitting here in the middle of a war freezing in the Frostback Mountains at night telling you the story.  The destruction at the Conclave. That was the last time anyone heard from her. Now the whole world’s fallen apart. Demons pouring out of the sky and there’s only so many of us left.

Who am I? I’ll get to that.

Back to Yen. Yennelyn of House Trevelyan. You’d know her if you met her.  One look. That’s all it takes with most men. She’s  . . . unforgettable.  The world is filled with color but Yennelyn? She is what lies beyond the darkness. Yen is life without the need for light.  I met her years ago. Made a fool of myself, actually. The first time I looked into those violet eyes my words fell everywhere around me except for out of my mouth.

_“You do have a name, don’t you? Perhaps you are afraid I might run away with it and never return? I assure you, your name is safe at least for now. As for the rest of you?” Yen looked at him and licked her lips.  “Another time, perhaps?” She laughed and continued on her way leaving the scent of rosemary and lemons in her wake._

Her laugh. You’d think I was a young boy with his first crush when I heard her laugh. That was the first time we met, well sort of met. I didn’t know who she was at the time. We crossed paths several times. After Kirkwall fell, she had to stay hidden. All of the remaining mages in Orlais and Ferelden were hunted. Not by my kind, you understand but there was so much confusion and fear after Kirkwall. I escaped, but barely.

I received word from a certain Lady Cassandra. She was a noble from Nevarra, but more importantly, she was a Seeker. The Seekers of Truth. Thedas’ ultimate order. Judge, jury and executioner for mages and even my kind. She’d heard what I’d done in Kirkwall; how I supported the Champion after the Chantry exploded. What she didn’t know?  I helped the Champion and her pet mage escape. I knew he wasn’t responsible for the explosion. His spirit passenger was the one who carried out the deed. I couldn’t condemn a man for the spirit that controlled him and I promised to find a way to free him.

After Kirkwall I was on my way by ship to a small hamlet called Haven at Cassandra’s request. Appropriate, don’t you think? Haven. A small gathering of misfits forced to band together for sanctuary. I heard her name again on the ship from Kirkwall. Even though we’d been apart for a few years I searched every inch of that ship. That was her way. Yennelyn flew in and out with the wind. I wondered if she would head to Haven.

After several weeks in Haven, I’d been left alone - for the most part. They had all the right players in place. Josephine Montilyet, a noble from Antiva where her family runs a fleet of merchant ships. She’s the Lady Ambassador. She’s well spoken, but to my eyes I could see her past. Lady Josephine was not all satin and ruffles in her heart.

There’s the Nightingale, Leliana. We know each other well and has used me in several operations before. The darker the place, the more likely the Nightingale would seek my help. She knew I didn’t scare easily and most importantly knew to allow me my privacy. Leliana was not one to cross or underestimate. I wondered if her fellows knew the deadly skills of their spymaster.

The commander of the armies is a Knight-Commander Rylen. He seems decent enough – for a Templar. These mage hunters want nothing more than to control and collar all mages. Maybe he’s not such a bad guy, but Templars don’t like my kind either. It’s a long story. I’ve done my best to avoid him so far.

I waited for Yennelyn hoping for a sign from her – anything to tell me where she might be. Then the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes occurred. Leliana and I were talking when sky ripped open and the demons came. She sent me on ahead. This is what I do. I put myself between the demons and everyone else.

What I found was unsettling. Death. Annihilation. Nothing survived. I needed to find Yen. I knew she survived, I can’t say how, but I knew.

I made my way back to the forward camp. Along the way I started to hear the stories. A woman dressed in black with dark hair and violet eyes was dumped through a hole in the Fade.  Violet eyes. The color was rare. It had to be Yen -  I had to get back as soon as possible.

Which brings us here.

So I will leave you safe with these soldiers. Find a way north, Starkhaven, Antiva, Rivain. Ferelden is lost for now, but not for long. How do I know? I’m going to find Yennelyn and then fix this mess. Who am I? I was born in Honnleath, I survived the Massacre in Ferelden’s Circle, the fall of Kirkwall. They call me the Butcher of Denerim – I served King Alistair during the Blight. I’m known as the Lion of Ferelden. My name is Cullen and I’m a Witcher.

 


	2. Torn Asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen Rutherford knows Yennelyn is within the confines of the small hamlet of Haven. The problem is Haven is currently home to Templars, mages and a Seeker of Truth. Any one of these presents a problem for a Witcher, but all three together push Cullen to find Yen and hurry to Denerim. The hole in the sky and the demons tell a different tale of need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Individual chapters will have trigger warnings and be tagged appropriately when necessary.

 

_Sometimes my past disappears from my memories. I remember growing up with my siblings: Mia, Branson and little Rosalie. Some days, the other inside me takes over. He has no past, just the constant companions of pain and destruction. It’s a fine line on those days. I must hide away from the innocent when my senses sharpen and the drive to purge the demons and darkness grows like a fever. Only two women I’ve known have been able to talk me through and help me remember who I am. Yennelyn is one. The other, I lost track of years ago and have not sensed her in a long time._

Leliana sent scouts to search for Cullen, needing to find him before he reached Yennelyn-before he understood what had happened. Cullen’s presence chafed even the strongest hearts among them and Rylen continued to gather support in his denouncement of the Witcher’s involvement. Leliana hoped to prevent Rylen from adding any more proof to his list of infractions.

Knight-Commander Rylen found himself assigned to assist Lady Cassandra by the Templar Order. Positive he would report everything he witnessed to his Templar superiors, Leliana had to keep the Order out of their way.

When Knight-Commander Rylen discovered Leliana brought a Witcher into their employ, he almost walked away. Witchers were rare. Rylen couldn't believe one still lived in Ferelden. _“What were you thinking asking that creature to assist? An abomination is a failure by a mage to resist a demon. Magisters purposefully create Witchers, Leliana, they are nothing more than alchemical and magic infused monsters! Yet you bring it here? I cannot imagine the corruption that follows its footsteps. I say terminate this Cullen immediately. You’ve seen Lady Trevelyan. She is no more mage than I am. That thing in her hand is not a part of her. Solas admitted it that is an artifact of the Evanuris. She should be protected by us not given to the creature.”_

As a Templar, the dangers of magic and mages were known to him. The temptation for power was often too much. Cullen was a far larger threat. No longer a man, but a monster bred to kill demons and the dangers that lurked in shadow.

The Exalted Marches called by the Divine beginning in the Black Age saw the Witcher population dwindle in the Tevinter Imperium. By 5:10 Exalted however, the Divine’s armies retreated from Tevinter although the March was never publicly declared a failure. The heavy losses on both sides greatly weakened and left a small number of Witcher schools within the Imperium still capable of producing the best.

Leliana uncovered the truth about Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath through meticulous research and a natural curiosity. Unlike his predecessors, he started the transformation process much later than the young age of most Witcher candidates; his unique qualifications made his conversion most desirable. Cullen, Ferelden by birth, left home at the age of thirteen. At eighteen, he disappeared and the Order presumed he died, although at the time no one knew of his selection by Tevinter spies for an experiment.  The Imperium planned to reinvigorate the Witcher ranks and unleash a new warrior into southern Thedas. The hope of Cullen’s handler and mentors was to send him back to Ferelden to work for the Imperium.

She smiled to herself thinking about how they met. _You didn’t work for the_ _Imperium, did you, Cullen? It was because of Solona. She set you free and you couldn’t bring yourself to betray her._

_The Harrowing chamber stood at the top of the tower. If any of the mages survived, this is where Uldred would take them. Solona demanded the party attempt the rescue of the First Enchanter. The man had been kind to her; she owed him an attempt to break free of whatever madness Uldred concocted. She’d braved the Fade for her party and Solona made it clear they owed her one attempt, and even though Wynne and Morrigan agreed with three mages to Alistair’s complaints, he had no choice but to agree._

_“I want to make it understood, Solona, this is a bad idea. We don’t know what is in the next room. I’m not sure I want to find out. We’ve fought demons and monsters and possessed Templars. This place is cursed. There is nothing to be done but let it burn.” Alistair did not want to remain in the tower; something evil resided within and destroying it all made sense to him._

_Solona ignored Alistair and opened the door to the antechamber before explaining her position. “Alistair, I can’t let it burn. If even one person survives, be they mage or Templar, I have to try.”_

_What they saw inside stopped them both. A luminescent cylinder pulsed and hummed, Solona able to sense the magic of the Fade crackling through the small vestibule._

_A male voice spoke through the hum. “You should listen to your companion, Alistair.”_

_Solona’s eyes were drawn to the bodies strewn inside, all Templars. Only one man survived within. He did not move, but she watched a slight smirk creep onto his face._

_“Solona Amell, I never thought we’d meet again. Did you miss me, Sol?” She shivered at the sound of a familiar voice._

_“Cullen,” Solona said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “How is it possible?”_

_Alistair did not like the tone of this conversation. He'd told Solona he wanted more, and she seemed to agree, but the way Solona reacted to this man unsettled him._

_It’s a long story," Cullen said. "Three of you reek of magic. Alistair here is a Grey Warden as are you now, Solona - how interesting. How is that taint working out for you? Pain’s a bitch I’ll bet.”_

_Solona watched as Cullen stood and opened his eyes, gasping at Cullen’s yellow eyes. Gone were the liquid amber and warm honey that captivated her, shyly looked upon her and the silken voice she remembered once made her blush all those years ago with a simple hello.  “Cullen? What happened? Y-y-you were . . . they said you were dead. You can’t be a - .”_

_“I can’t be what Solona – a Witcher? Now is not the time for scary stories. Uldred knocked me out and stuck me in this Fade barrier when he figured it out. I can’t help you, Sol. You must take Uldred out quickly and be careful of his blood magic. Break the connection; do not let him use those mages in the chamber. When you weaken him, be relentless. Once you destroy Uldred I can get out of this thing. Now, go.”_

_Morrigan stepped closer. Yellow eyes met their mirror. “Looks like we have something else to discuss, wouldn’t you agree, witch?” Cullen smirked, returned to his sitting position and closed his eyes to wait. The party stormed into the chamber and the fighting began. He smiled as the first of the tremors moved through him. “So the little Templar can fight. It’s almost impressive for a new Grey Warden.” Cullen reached out again. Three mages fought against Uldred’s angry red tendrils of magic and hatred. The older woman, white and gold magical energy warmed and gathered the party in protections. “She’s a talented healer. Could be helpful.” The next energy fields he sensed were similar to his own. “That must be the witch. She is not entirely human. That is interesting. Is she a creation or a hybrid? I doubt she knows what she is. Her energy was a mix like his, elemental, fade and alchemical. I will need to learn more of her.”  He focused on Solona. Her spirit magic and elemental gifts were well developed. “It’s that damned taint that blocks me from seeing her. Why would she do that? Was it for that Templar?” The sounds of battle cries and the tremors through his prison alerted Cullen to the slow success within the chamber. Once freed, he needed to shed the Templar armor and retrieve his own from the room next to him. The barrier continued to erode and shimmer until it crackled and fizzled into dust around him._

_He hurried into the next room and found his stashed items.  The armor he’d received in Tevinter, far better suited for deflection of magic and allowed him to add additional hexes and protections as needed. Cullen retrieved his blades and returned to the vestibule. He wasn’t sure how much he was ready to tell Solona. Distance was important. She’d never forgotten him, that was clear._

_The smile that bloomed did so on its own as he watched her descend the stairs. She tried to fix her hair. “You’re covered in blood, Sol. Your hair is not important.” The scowl on Alistair’s face caught Cullen’s attention. “Relax, Alistair, Solona and I were . . . friends many years ago. I met her here when we were younger. The last time we spoke I was leaving for a training exercise.”_

_Her face fell, recalling the memory. “The others told me you were dead. I asked the First Enchanter to look for you when the Templars refused.”_

_Irving descended the steps with Wynne’s help. “Warden, we were not aware the young Templar lived. We found evidence he was mauled, there was a body.”_

_"It wasn’t me. Doesn’t matter. This is who I am now Sol, and it’s time for me to go. Alistair, you watch out for my friend.” He winked at Solona and strode out of the vestibule._

_Solona paused as she looked into Alistair’s face. He shook his head. “Solona, a Witcher is too dangerous. Look what he did to all those Templars!”_

_“Alistair. I know him. He did not kill those men," she said, defiance in her eyes pushing past him to follow Cullen._

_Irving labored towards the door. “The Warden is correct. He fought his way here. I watched as those possessed Templars tried to restrain him. He knocked them out, it was the barrier that killed them. Only someone of superior mental and physical strength could have survived the madness within that prison.”_

_“Cullen, please wait!” Solona called after him. Cullen! I know you can hear me, so stop running away from me!” The sounds of footfalls ceased._

_Cullen sighed. They were children, and it was just harmless flirting. He couldn’t be around her -  not as a lover or a friend. She was a Warden now. As enticing as she was to him, a single touch from her skin would burn and his senses would take over; he might not be able to stop the need to eradicate the monster within and it terrified him._

_“Sol, please. I can’t help you. It’s too dangerous to be near me. I’m not that boy anymore. I’m not sure what I am,” Cullen said. “I’m hunting the Archdemon, as are you no doubt? Hopefully, I’ll find him before you, Sol.”_

_She took another step closer. “You can’t. Only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon.”_

_He laughed. Solona blanched at his harshness, so different than the man she remembered.  “The Wardens still spew that nonsense? No. a Grey Warden can sacrifice himself and kill the Archdemon. Only a Witcher can walk away. So do me a favor Sol, go play with your Templar back there and stay the fuck out of my way.” He turned on his heel and walked away. Cullen needed to push her away as far as he could._

_“You can’t fool me Cullen! Don’t you dare walk away from me like this!” Solona stomped after him and grabbed him. Morrigan sprinted as quickly as she could and pulled Solona away. “Foolish girl! A beast in the blood!” Solona watch as Cullen grabbed where she touched his wrist.  His hand clenched white and his shoulders hunched in pain. He panted as the urge to seek the cause of his pain fought his feelings to protect his friend._

_“I am called Morrigan.  I will reach your supply pack and give you a potion. There is no pain from my skin. Breathe through it, the evil is gone here.”_

_Cullen gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I will not harm her.” He said through gritted teeth._

_Morrigan kept her voice soft and even. “The pain will pass.”  Morrigan dug in Cullen’s pack and pulled out a potion, she recognized it by the pearlescent white color. She could not duplicate the formula, but it could heal almost any poison for his ilk. It was not meant for humans but for him; the pain could end. “Here, drink. You sense no threat from me. So drink.”_

_Taking the potion in his uninjured hand Cullen waited allowing the liquid  to slide down his throat, and he relaxed as the magic spread . The heat in his wrist rose as the skin purged the poison and his senses calmed. “Thank you, Morrigan. I would not have harmed her.”_

_Morrigan looked toward Solona and Alistair. “You cannot remain near. We return to Redcliffe Castle. Meet me at the village inn. I have a solution for the pain, ‘tis not complicated but you will have to brew it yourself, in two days. Go.”_

_Leliana was the first to note their tail on the return to Redcliffe. Hanging back, she rested against a tree and watched as the man Morrigan described followed their party, using the surrounding ground as cover. Leliana crept closer but stayed out of weapon reach._

_She stopped as his voice found her ears. “You can stop creeping around. You are not silent to my ears,"_

_Leliana moved closer. “Are the stories true? You can see in the dark? I will admit that would be helpful to see in any level of light. What about your senses, are they beyond human senses? I have heard stories of men like you. The White Wolf, is he real or just a legend?”_

_Cullen did not turn to face her; he watched and scanned the area around them and ahead. “I was told the same stories in Tevinter. There is no village of Rivia in Thedas. Perhaps he is a tale told to children to scare and entertain. My mentor’s name was Acasius not Vesemir. The schools in the Imperium are not for play or idle chatter and I will not discuss what happened there. I was Ferelden once. I did not expect Solona when I was sent to the Circle.”_

Leliana let the memories fade. She understood the fears the Templars and the Chantry held for Cullen and his kind, but a small group knew the truth and would not allow him to be detained or harmed. The problem at hand was much more volatile.

Lady Trevelyan, Yennelyn of Ostwick, rested in a small house in Haven. There were half a dozen Houses in Tevinter and Orlais that would pay well for delivering her to them.  Leliana risked her alliance with the Seekers and the Order keeping Yennelyn's whereabouts secret.

Lady Trevelyan did not believe in the now defunct Circles and took great pride in working against the current regime. Yennelyn helped those who faced imprisonment or worse. A story circulated for years she had infiltrated a masque, subdued several nobles and the host and then absconded with almost fifty slaves in the blink of an eye. The truth was far less exciting. She’d used her magic and put the guests to sleep, threatened the host and walked out the front door with the slaves at her heels. The tales of her exploits grew with each passing year. 

Until now, Cullen Rutherford protected Lady Trevelyan surreptitiously and if his past with Solona indicated Cullen’s level of devotion he would not leave Ferelden without her. The situation with Yennelyn would escalate as soon as Cullen learned of her condition.

________________________________________________________

 

 _As soon as I find Yen, I’m leaving Ferelden, even if I have to carry her over my shoulder_. Cullen did not want to join another crusade. The demons he’d faced were of the Fade, they would prove difficult for the group gathered here, but not impossible. Yennelyn was too exposed here. If one of the Templars figured out who she was, he’d have to fight through the innocent civilians gathered in Haven.  The Templars and Seekers had a much different view of Yennelyn. Her magic so unique Templars could not block her. In all his years in Tevinter, Cullen had only seen her energy once before and the man who wielded it was executed the moment it was discovered.

He tried to understand why Yennelyn had risked her freedom appearing at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Divine was the only reason Cullen could not dismiss. He had a vague recollection of a conversation in which Yen talked about the Divine before she took the position as the head of the Chantry. Cullen cursed himself for not paying attention to her many stories late at night. _I need to be polite and smile when I see her, tell her how beautiful she looks and hope she isn’t too pissed off this time. She could have told me she was heading this deep into Ferelden. Maybe she did and I wasn’t listening to her._

Leliana left her tent as Cullen stood at the front gate waiting while two guards argued. Neither one wanted to let him pass. _That’s it. I’m not standing here any longer._ Cullen thought. “I believe you will open the gate for me and step aside. I was never here.” He said aloud, lifted his right hand, and traced a triangle resting on its point.  The Axii sign - a simple hex Cullen used for brief control over a subject. Here, just long enough to influence the two guards to let him enter. _I promised Leliana I would be on my best behavior. Both guards are still conscious that qualifies as my best behavior._ The guard’s dazed state would not last long, nor would they remember him.

Leaving the gate area, the need to find Yennelyn pushed Cullen to increase his pace through the small hamlet. He avoided the Templars at the training field and cut to his right at the lake to find Leliana waiting for him on the path. _I hate it when she does that._ He groaned and realized another problem existed. Leliana held her own form of court; she did not seek others but rather waited for others to approach her. Her presence on the path alluded to a greater problem.

Cullen stopped at her position and turned looking out over the frozen lake and woods. “I’m not interested Leliana. I’m here for Yen and then I am taking her to Denerim before we leave Ferelden.”

“Cullen, this is not like the Blight. We don’t know what is happening we _need_ your help. I will keep the Templars away from you; my scouts search for a base for you as we speak," she said.

They'd kept in contact over the years, Leliana sending Cullen from one contract to another; this time he had no intentions of hanging around. He crossed his arms balancing from one foot to the other. “No. Where’s Yen?”

Leliana continued. “You can see what the breach is, can’t you? You are not like the others, Cullen. You and your sense of duty, it compels you to stay and to help. The Templars are not prepared for this; we are not looking for renegade mages or demons only the Maker knows what we are up against.”

“Ask the Maker for help. Where’s Yen?” Cullen did not want to linger in Haven too long. “Leliana, it’s not safe and you know it. Too many Templars around Haven. Let’s not forget Cassandra Pentaghast - she is not as likely to share your sentiments.”

Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, that name is burned into the mind of any who'd known the Witchers. In 9:23, she actively hunted any known Witchers under orders from Divine Beatrix III. _I was still in Tevinter during the Secret Wars. I don’t understand why she accepts me now. If her past is any sign of her feelings towards my kind, I should be dead. Someone stayed her hand against me. Maybe Leliana or Alistair?_

 “I thought Witchers could sense powerful magic. Why rely on me? Find her yourself.” Leliana waited.

“You will come with me.” It was not a request. Leliana followed as Cullen returned to the lakefront and knelt on the dock. He cleared his mind and inhaled pushing out his thoughts and focusing on Yennelyn. Within his mind, the bright light of the Fade in the breach hung above him. Yen’s energy pulsed with shades of crimson and purple, a current of energy that would lead him to her. He searched and found nothing. Cullen took another breath and pushed his mind again. He found another presence, green and gold molten energy undulating in a small controlled area, churning clouds of power condensed in a single point. _What is this? Where in the Void is Yen?_   Cullen shook the search from his mind and stood in a fluid movement.

Leliana struck by the effortless motions of the man in front of her, spoke aloud without her usual restraint. “When you move, I can see you are not like the rest of us.”

He turned and smiled. “Be glad I am the only one, if you see another like me Leliana, run.” Cullen continued. “Yen is not here. You could have told me this – you have something else here, I have never seen anything like it before. It is not magic, yet it is and it will consume whatever it touches.”

Leliana did not react initially to Cullen’s statement. “Follow me, but I want your word you will remain as you are now and not react.” She spun around and faced him. “Your word, Cullen, I need to hear you promise.”

 _Yennelyn. That energy - it's Yen._ He closed his eyes for a moment. “This is going to upset me, isn’t it?”  Cullen’s struggle with Yennelyn spanned many years and although she never asked more of him than he was willing to give, she took more from him than any woman he had ever known.  

***

_Yennelyn rode Sprite ahead of Cullen, pressing her horse faster as they traveled across the Imperial Highway. She laughed and looked back towards Cullen several times as he tried to catch up to her. Luna, the larger of the two moons was waning and their escape was covered by some measure of darkness. Once again, Yen assumed Cullen would find her in time. He’d learned of her capture by one of the Circles in Orlais from a contact in Montsimmard. This time, no one died. When Cullen entered the Lord Avery’s villa that night he told himself it was the last time. Yen asked too much of him._

_Cullen coaxed his mount to overtake Sprite.  Sprite usually responded to Shade.  His horse had been a gift from the young Tevene who freed him. Shade was used to magic and did not shy away from Cullen._

_Aided by Shade, horse and rider guided Sprite to a halt. Cullen grabbed the reins. “Yen, enough.”_

_She laughed and shook her head. “Cullen, nothing happened. You worry far too much. You know I love you, right?”_

_He did not respond. “Not this time, Yen. Time to decide. Will you continue this reckless game through Thedas or will you come with me? I am expected in Denerim, and then we will leave.”_

_Her face darkened. “Why do you persist with this woman? She does not care for you, Cullen and yet you risk everything to see her when she calls? When will it be enough?”_

_Cullen sighed and grabbed the back of his neck. “The same could be said of you.”_

_Yennelyn pulled back in the saddle. “I hunt those who took your life and others, Cullen. I would shake the foundations of this world and others to give you what you desire most. Can’t you see that?”_

_“Yen. Please don’t fight for me. This is who I am now and I accept my fate. I will follow you wherever you wish to go, but this recklessness has to stop. What if I couldn’t get to you? What then?”_

_She swung her leg over the saddle and jumped down. “You accept your fate? Cullen, power and glory set you on this path – not your precious Maker. Yes, I hear you. You still pray to an absent god who allowed this madness to take you. If I can find a way to reverse it, Cullen. Think on it we could- “_

_“Could what, Yen?” Cullen’s irritation took hold. “Marry? Children? You live a children’s tale in your head. None of that is possible. The process cannot be undone; this is who I am. Find another to give you what you want. Will you come to Denerim or will you continue alone?”_

_Yennelyn’s soft voice found his ears. “You sound as if this is the end.”_

_Another sigh, another rub of his neck. “I don’t know. Come with me.”_

_She turned away and shivered. “I’m not giving up. If your precious queen can be spared her fate, then I must try to do the same for you. I believe there is a way. Void take you Cullen.”_

_“It already has. Stay safe, Yen. I . . . never mind.”_

***

His memories did not lie. The two parted. Alistair sent Cullen to Kirkwall and during his time in the city Yen arrived.

“You have my word. Let’s go.” Cullen promised against his growing concerns. Leliana led him along the dirt paths to near the apothecary and the elf, the pull of the unknown magic he sensed intensifying. Cullen reached out with his senses and found the point of origin for the strange magic emanating from inside the house before him.

Leliana knocked and Cullen heard Knight Commander Rylen’s voice. “Enter!”

She moved into the small entry with Cullen behind her. “What is that doing here?” Rylen hissed.

 _This is wrong. Yen stands in front of me, but the familiar pull of her magic, her essence is gone._ “What did you do to her?” Cullen asked, remembering his promise to remain in control. If the Templars made her into a mindless shell, he would destroy every Templar in this frozen shithole and carry their heads as trophies.

Rylen stepped protectively in front of Yennelyn. “We have done nothing to her. We rescued the Lady Trevelyan from a Fade rift. The Lady cannot recall many details of her experience and sadly we learned of her identity through Leliana.”

Glaring at Leliana for hiding details from him, Cullen would deal with it another time.   _I should know better than to trust Leliana._ “Yen, the game is over. I promised to return you to your home, and it is time to leave.”

“You wish to return me to my home? Do you mean return to Ostwick?” Yennelyn asked.

Cullen searched her face. _Yennelyn has not lived in Ostwick in ten years. She is not faking this – whatever it is. Dammit, Yen. What have you done?_   Cullen flipped through his memory. _Could she mask her magic and cause this mental block? I would need another mage to find out._ Cullen’s eyes fell to Yennelyn’s hands. Without using his senses, he could see a flare of green light. He clenched his fists and took a deeper look. He held his breath as the green and gold tendrils of ancient magic fused in her hand. Wisps of lighter green seeped into her bloodstream. Without her magic to hold it back, the strength of what infested her would continue to grow.

Her frightened gaze grabbed his. She looked at the man in front of her. His voice soothing, like a memory of fireside chats and stories shared but there was nothing familiar in his appearance.  His white hair fell to his shoulders and curled slightly at the ends; a sudden need grew in her hands to reach for him.  Her eyes and hands had a memory different from her own. His beard, a mix of dark and white hairs beckoned to her. Her cheeks burned in all but forgotten need to pull his face to her skin. She wanted to touch and explore what about the man before her captivated her so. She glanced at his hands and a shiver moved up her spine. The spell broke as she stared into his eyes. His feral, yellow eyes with dark vertical slits met her gaze and responded to her unspoken need. The medallion around his neck pulled her gaze. The lion, forever frozen in a ferocious roar threatened to consume her. The red glowing eyes set deep within the silver held her powerless as the lion stalked her in the darkness of her mind.

She buried her head in the Commander’s shoulder and begged him to save her from the creature that bewitched her. “You must help me. You swore to protect me Rylen, do not let him take me from here.”

Cullen ground his teeth and led Leliana from the house, removing his purse and handing it to her. “Give that back, if you would.”  Leliana’s brows knit together in confusion. She handed the money pouch back to him. “Thank you, I’ll take the job. Find me a place not crawling with Templars to sleep. Tomorrow we will have a little chat. No more lies, Leliana. This is my best behavior; you do not want to find out what happens when I misbehave.”

 

_______ 

Leliana set Cullen away from everyone in the old apothecary’s home on the outskirts. Adan had no concerns about the Witcher using his mentor’s home. “Taigen has no use for it.” Adan replied to the request. “I would ask a few moments of your time, Witcher, to discuss some of your more intricate alchemical formulas – at your convenience.”

Cullen inclined his head in response. “I will expect you in the morning with a plan, Leliana. See you.”

Leliana caught herself smiling. _So, he still says ‘see you’. That was Solona. I should tell him she’s happy with Alistair, but I suspect he knows that quite well._ She watched as he sprinted into the forest.

Cullen found Taigen’s house far enough away from the rest of Haven to be a welcome change. He’d just removed his weapon harness when a knock at the door coaxed a groan from him.

A familiar voice spoke through the door. “Come on, Cullen. It’s just me, Varric. You know you missed me!”

Cullen held back a smile. Varric was a pain in the ass but always up for a card game and a drink. “Go away, Varric.”

The laugh that carried through the door was all too familiar. Cullen’s days in Kirkwall were often plagued by Hawke and Varric and one ridiculous scheme after another. “Cullen, I come with offerings of fine drink and a game of cards! Open up, kitty cat!”

Cullen pulled the door open and glared. “Never call me that again, dwarf. Anders said it one time and you still can’t let it go.”

Varric spoke through his laughter. “How can I? That night in the Hanged Man, Anders was drunk. It was too funny.”

***

_Hawke and Varric laughed watching Anders drink far more than he should. Hawke rose to grab another round and Cullen stood as she left the table. Varric shook his head. “Listen, Cullen, no one here gets up when Hawke stands. You make the rest of us look bad. Since when do your kind have manners?”_

_“I was raised in a proper household, Varric. It’s not my problem the rest of you are so crude.”_

_Alcohol did not effect Cullen as much as his companions. Anders, on the other hand,  could not keep up with the rest of them.  Hawke returned and dropped the drinks on the table top. “Anders, you might sit this round out,” she said._

_Slugging his drink from mug, Anders almost toppled the vessel on the table's edge. Had it not been for Cullen’s reflexes righting the slipping mug, the mage would have drenched himself in ale . Anders smiled and sighed. “You really are handsome, Cullen.”_

_Hawke snickered. She knew what might follow; Anders often degenerated into drunken proposals or propositions._

_“It’s your eyes, Cullen. They are mesmerizing, so hypnotic. They remind me of something, I just can’t remember what.” Anders leaned even closer and sighed again._

_Hawke tapped the mage on his back. “Anders, I think it’s time to go.”_

_The mage’s elbow slipped and Hawke caught his head before he slammed against the table. Cullen stood and offered to help, Hawke nodding as Cullen lifted Anders. As they walked to the exit, Anders faced Cullen._

_“Now I remember. You remind me of a cat. A very strong, attractive kitty-cat.”  Hawke tried to choke back her laugh but failed._

_“Sorry, Cullen. Let’s get him out of here.”_

_***_

Strange as it seemed, Cullen missed Kirkwall. Night after night Hawke and Varric would formulate ridiculous plans and Cullen often joined in when the plan went awry, which was more often than not. 

“Get in, Varric. I could use a diversion.” Cullen closed the door as Varric entered. “But a diversion is why you are here, am I right? Slick as ever, Varric.”

The dwarf sat down and put a few bottles on the table. “It’s swill, but will numb the pain. I have a letter for you, from Hawke. She sent it to me in Kirkwall, I received it before the Seeker arrived. By the way, thanks for leaving me with that mess. Cassandra had me locked up while she tried to pull the information out of me about what happened. I made up some bullshit and I’m sure she bought most of it.” Varric took a quick swig from the bottle. “I take it back. It’s worse than swill.” Varric continued. “You can’t stay here. Collect you-know-who and go. None of this shit makes any sense and you, my friend, will be the focus of every theory.”

“I can’t take her; she didn't recognize me, Varric. For a moment, I thought – there was a look in her eyes. I thought she realized who I was and then she begged that Templar to save her. Whenever Yen regains her memories I am not sure I want to be around.”

Varric nodded. “Rylen. He’s not a bad guy. He can’t move beyond the Order and their rules right now.” He drank again. “The problem here, Cullen, is Yennelyn Trevelyan. That is not her. The battle in Kirkwall, I was there remember? She’s a tempest when she fights, the destruction I watched her inflict. Look, I owe you for Hawke’s life and I’ll do what I can to watch over the lady. You find a way to fix that breach. I think there’s something more to this and so does Hawke. She’s heading to Orlais now.”

“You didn’t come here for a card game, Varric.” Cullen held up his hand, preventing interruption. “Save it. You’re right. I need to find a mage to help me understand how Yen might find her memory.”

Taking another drink from the bottle in front of him, Varric slammed it down. “I’ve got it. Talk to Chuckles. He’s got that whole I’m a mysterious elf who walks the Fade thing going. You two should have loads to discuss.” Varric’s sarcasm was not lost on Cullen.

“Chuckles? You call the elf Chuckles?” Cullen asked.

“It’s better than calling him ‘the elf’. His name is Solas, but everyone gets a nickname around me. I have one picked out for you, but worry about my safety.” Varric laughed.

“I’m waiting, Varric.”

“A certain monarch has a lovely wife who seems to harbor some strong feelings for a certain Ferelden born man who once had curly blonde hair. This lovely woman went on for a while about this man and the tale made its way back to me. So, Curly, I think in our little plot here, I will use the name instead of your own.”

Cullen pressed his lips together. “Fine.  I’m certain I don’t have a choice.”

Varric stood. “You don’t. Talk to Solas, just be cautious. You aren’t the only one hiding here.”

_Sleep is not possible for me. If I do the nightmares take hold. I do not need the reminder of the horrors or the pain from all those years ago and when I sleep that is what finds me._

_I secure the door and douse the candles. The fire should burn through the night.  I will retreat within myself and rest without sleep, a journey through my memories to a place I remember and the man I once was. Yen was right, I cannot abandon what I once held dear._

_Do not grieve for me, Maker of All._

_Though all others may forget You,_

_Your name is etched into my every step._

_I will not forsake You, even if I forget myself._

_I pray before I rest each night. A last remnant of hope that a part of Cullen Rutherford remains within me and it is for him that I speak those words._

 

_[Image of Witcher Cullen by ourmysticalnonsense on Deviantart .com](http://orig01.deviantart.net/5817/f/2016/023/4/9/cullen_witcher1_by_ourmysticalnonsense-d9p1nbd.jpg) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think. There's always room for improvement, this is just getting started.


	3. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen must find a way to restore Yennelyn's memory. Solas, the elf may have an answer for him. Cullen's focus is weakened by his concerns and he falls deep within his memories. The memory of an old friend surfaces within the pain and despair of Cullen's transformation.

Chapter 3 Shattered

_Yennelyn tossed in her small bed the nightmare enveloping her in its grasp. She woke to a soft knock on her door._

_“Yen, let me in, please.” She heard the Witcher’s voice through the door. “Please, Yen. It’s Cullen.”_

_She stood opposite his voice inside the house. “I don’t understand. Do I know you?”_

_A laugh drifted through the door. “You could say that.” He replied through the door. “Yen, I could never hurt you, but if you want me to leave, I will.”_

_Yennelyn listened to the scuff of boots on the path. She pulled the door open and called out to him. “Wait. . . a moment, please. I do not wish to be rude, but I cannot . . . could I – never mind. I apologize. Good night, Cullen.” Cullen’s tall frame turned halfway towards her. She watched as the wind gathered his hair around his face.  He turned full on to face her._

_He looked down at his feet and smiled as he looked up into her eyes. “Good night, Lady Trevelyan.”_

_A sudden heat bloomed from her chest to her face as he walked away.  She followed him. “Cullen?”_

_He turned at wondered at her sudden boldness. “Perhaps you should return to your room, my lady.”_

_Surprised at her comfort being this close to the Witcher, her need to touch his face overtook proper manners. She reached for his face and placed her right hand alongside his cheek. The roughness of his beard sparked through her fingers and hands. “I don’t . . . know you and yet . . . this. Why?”_

_He leaned into her hand and stifled a groan. Her eyes locked with his. “Are you dangerous as the Commander warned?”_

_Cullen tucked her hair behind her shoulder. “Yes, except for you, Yen. I would give you his life if you asked me for it. That is why he fears me. But you?” Cullen tipped his head to her waiting neck._

_The graze of his beard against her neck, the first brush of his lips made her tremble. She felt him smile against her and stiffened when his arms wrapped her in his warmth. Cullen’s left hand stroked her back up and down her spine. His movements – slow and deliberate. She shivered against him as he teased the skin through the fabric of her dress. Her tense muscles melted against his chest. Another shiver as the rumble of seductive laughter took over her senses.  His right hand stroked her bare shoulder._

_She wondered how he had slipped her from her dress so easily. Concerns fled as the tip of his tongue tasted her first and his lips covered the touch with a kiss. He followed her pulse up her neck; a touch of his tongue and a kiss. A smile would break though his concentration as her pulse sped and breathing quickened._

_He did not speak as he reached her face, but guided her chin to meet his. His lip brushed against hers._

A dare. He’s testing me.

_Yennelyn closed her eyes and waited for the next kiss._

_A rough thumb and a subtle laugh, his mouth waits above mine. His lips touch and he parts them with his tongue. I should resist, I should stop. Void take me, he touches my breast, my nipple and continues to kiss down my neck. I must stop, stop him before he -_

Yennelyn cried out his name in the darkness.

An urgent pounding on wood brought her to her senses. “My Lady! My Lady, are you all right?”

Startled by the intensity of her dream and soaked in sweat, her breathing slowed and the shock at the scent of her sex in the room disturbed her. Her body responded to the Witcher in her dream. 

Yennelyn called out to them. “I apologize, it was a nightmare. Forgive me, I am well.“ _The Commander is right. I must not allow the Witcher near me._

________________________________________________

_I remember the lake, my sanctuary. I remember the gentle slap of the water as it touched the dock when the surface broke. I loved the click of the water beetles and the buzz of small flying insects. It was this natural silence I cherished. I learned to trust in the Maker and it was there that I dedicated my life to the Order. I return to my lake when I rest my physical self and allow my mind to return to this refuge._

_He sat on the dock, a boy of six, reading the Chant of Light. The serenity of the words soothed him. The wind shifted, the warm breeze cooled and a light frost covered the grasses and plants. The mind of a man much older realized too late that his meditation was about to end as sleep took hold. Cullen felt a sudden jolt to his senses as time spun away from him._

Tevinter  9:29 Dragon

Gereon Alexius, magister in experimental magic received an impossible task. The delivery of a Ferelden Templar to his laboratory was the opportunity he hoped would prove his superiority. Create a Witcher in less than a year, not the half a lifetime it took. Make an army for Tevinter to take Par Vollen, Seheron and then Southern Thedas. 

Alexius believed the Templar Order was the key. The problem - none of the candidates from Tevinter survived the first stage. Alexius had been working on time magic, not strictly forbidden in the Imperium, but he believed it was the key to speeding up the process. Time magic was not perfected in the least. Alexius needed more research and testing, but the Imperium wanted results. Alexius has recently gained a new apprentice – a mage with exceptional skills and intellect but no discipline.  This new apprentice showed promise and with his help Alexius hoped to perfect the time magic as they continued their research. The Witcher project, however, could not wait. Alexius planned to use the time magic, as unstable as it was, to ease a faster transformation. 

The Templar strapped to his table was approximately eighteen years old.  His name was Cullen Stanton Rutherford, considered to be one of the top recruits. He was of humble origins, but very devout and skilled. Alexius hoped his will was strong enough.

Cullen struggled against the bindings. “Release me.” Cullen attempted to break the magic bonds he felt within the room.

Alexius was impressed. “Listen Cullen, you are far stronger than the others brought to me. Hold on to who you are. I will not lie, my boy. The transformation will destroy you from the inside out. Then I shall make you whole again.”

Defiance shown deep in his amber eyes, the fire within him blazed. “I am not your boy. Do your worst, I shall endure it.” Cullen prayed aloud.

“ _My Creator, judge me whole; find me well within your grace_. _Touch me with fire that I be cleansed; tell me I have sung to your approval_.” Cullen continued his recitations from Transfigurations.

Alexius laughed. “You choose your verses well for one so young. You might survive, Templar.“ Alexius left his laboratory and Cullen with his thoughts.

He closed his eyes and waited. Quick steps on the stone floor caught Cullen’s ear. “I have little time so please listen to what I say. You have no reason to trust me. I should not be here. There is a way to survive this. Remember who you are. Hold on to your memories, to those you love. Was there no one who had your eye or your heart? Look to their face in your mind.“

“Release me.” Cullen ordered. The man’s voice was younger like his own. “You are the apprentice he calls for when he leaves.”

The man spoke again in a hushed voice. “I cannot free you, there are too many about. I’ve read the notes, the initial phase will be the easiest, just a series of potions and herbs. This will prepare you for the first stage. I . . . cannot lie - you will think you are dying and in a way you are, but Cullen if the Maker is what you hold dear, recite the whole bloody chant again and again. Never stop, do you understand?”

The man’s whispers were frantic, imparting a lifetime of information in minutes. “The second stage will be worse. By then, you will no longer care if you live or die, but you must live. I will return each night and numb the pain for you. Listen to me, please. When your transformation is complete I will help you. I’m copying Alexius’ notes. I will find a way. The time magic is one thing; this . . . this is not what I want. I am sorry Cullen it is the best I can do.”

Cullen took a deep breath as panic grew. A wave of warmth spread through his chest. “Hush and rest. I will return as soon as I can.”

“You used magic on me? Why?” Cullen asked.

The man finished his casting and turned towards the door. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Wait!” Cullen called after him. “Will you tell me your name?”

“My name is Dorian.“ Hurried steps retreated leaving Cullen alone.

__________________________________________

 That night, the process of transformation began. Alexius cast his time magic. The layers were intricate concentric circles of time, pockets of a life in each sphere. The outermost ring served as the barrier between present time and the next. At the center, time ran faster. This would allow the magic infused herbal potions to absorb faster into Cullen’s body. The potions would trigger the metabolic processes in Cullen’s body to work at an accelerated rate and prepare him for the first stage. 

The time acceleration in Alexius’ lab took the initial process from several days to a single night.  When the household of the Alexius estate retired for the evening, Dorian crept back to the laboratory to aid Cullen.

“Well, you don’t look different.  Perhaps that is one positive here. Are you well?” Dorian asked.

Cullen wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you for asking I have a headache, nothing more. A potion would be fine.”

Dorian smiled as he sent healing magic through Cullen. “Sadly, there will be no more potions for you.  I’m almost through the notes and have all the specific formulas copied for you. The changes yet to come will require specialized formulas to heal and enhance your skills. As you progress through the next stage, my friend, I shall teach you what I have learned from the compendium Alexius recovered. The changes are fascinating, but then I suppose when they are meant to happen to you, perhaps not so much.”

Dorian checked Cullen’s bindings. “Dorian, I swear on my honor, I shall not harm you if you release me.”

“Would that I could release you, Cullen. This is my last chance if you believe my father. As I cannot release you, I will promise to arrive every night and heal you. I will talk with you and teach you what I learn. Do you remember lessons? Do you have a mind for books and learning?” Dorian needed to be sure Cullen could retain all the information he would impart.

“Yes, I can read and comprehend words. I may be Ferelden, but do not assume we Fereldens are inferior to you.“

 _He is strong willed, excellent. If I can anger him into his pride he should keep much of his memory and his Templar skills._ “I must apologize, Cullen. My experiences with the more rural areas of the south are limited.” Dorian turned away and smiled, hoping Cullen’s spirit was still intact.

“Rural areas of Ferelden? You must be mad. Have you never seen the royal city of Denerim or the Circle tower of Ferelden?” Cullen smiled as he thought of the tower.  “It is true my family is from a small village, but there is much that is beautiful about Ferelden. This is hardly the time or the place.”

Cullen coughed and asked for water. Dorian nodded. He took a bowl from the counter and used magic to fill it with ice. Dorian used a flourish of his hand and a burst of flame consumed the ice and melted it. He carried the bowl to Cullen and raised his head so the man could drink. Once finished. Dorian returned the bowl to the worktable. Cullen shook his head. “There is a pitcher of water on the table there.”

Dorian looked at the container and shrugged. “True, but then I couldn’t show off if I’d use it - now could I? What is her name? The one you were thinking of when you mentioned the tower?”

Cullen blushed. “Her name?”

“His name, then?” Dorian teased. He needed Cullen to be calm and relaxed so that sleep would come. Tomorrow would arrive with all speed.

“No, I . . .Solona. She is a friend, a mage but we are friendly. She must be worried. Solona flirted more than was . . . proper between us.” Cullen did not know why he told Dorian all of this.

“She flirted more than was proper between a mage and a Templar? You cannot be serious. You would dismiss affection because she is a mage? Cullen, you are not as intelligent as I thought.” Dorian admonished him. “That is your antiquated Chantry talking through you. I expected more from you Cullen.”

Dorian heard footsteps. “Chant of Light, recite it!” He slunk into the shadows at the rear of the laboratory.

The door opened as Alexius entered. “One servant overheard talking. Who is here with you?”

Cullen shook his head. “No one, I was reciting the Chant. It gives me comfort.”

“Yes, of course.” Alexius saw the wet bowl and pointed to it. “Who was here with you?”

“A servant, I believe. Someone came to fill the water and I asked for a drink.”

“In the future, ask them to find me. Do not allow the elves close to you. Are we clear?” Cullen nodded and Alexius left the laboratory and locked the door.

The sound of retreating footsteps urged Dorian out of his hiding space. “You did not turn me in, I am surprised.”

“Is that what Tevinter is like, Dorian? No one trusts each other? Don’t you have friends?” Cullen asked.

Dorian caught his frown. _It’s like he says, each person clawing over the next to be the best or to be favored._ “Why Cullen, are you telling me you consider me your friend?”

 He thought carefully. _Better to have an ally amongst the wolves than to be alone_. “I would like to think so. You will not free me and you have all but sworn to help me survive what is to come. I can only assume that would make us allies.”

The mage regarded the man in front of him. He would call him friend even though he remains one of his captors. “Careful now, all this sentiment and I might let loose a single tear.”

“Please don’t strain yourself, Dorian.” Cullen yawned. “I would like to sleep. Will you promise to return and talk with me again?”

Dorian nodded. “You may not wish to see me tomorrow, but I will be here as promised.” He produced a key and showed it to Cullen. “This is the skeleton key for this dismal place. Alexius will not know I was here. Remember what I said. Keep what matters most in your head.”

The next morning Cullen woke to a horrible scream. Through his panting he realized the voice was his own.  The first of the compounds were given and Alexius woke him at first light. Cullen knew this as the servants covered the laboratory windows with heavy drapes to block the sunrise. 

He tried to focus on the words Alexius used in front of him. Instead of speaking, another scream pierced his ears as his chest was sliced with a fine point. It was not the cut but the burn under his skin. He recited the words in his head to block the panic and fear bubbling in his stomach.

______

_Maker my enemies are abundant  . . ._

Under his skin a fire intensified, flowing through his blood consuming, devouring - pain without end.

_Many are those who rise up against me . . ._

Another vial tipped to his lips. Cullen fought back and pressed his lips together and tucked his chin to his chest. Alexius barked at someone in the room. Six delicate hands held his head and pinched his nose until Cullen could no longer resist.

_But my faith sustains me. . ._

The vial tipped into his mouth--its caustic contents eliciting coughs. The air stripped from his lungs ignited a new fire within him. Every muscle twitched. Alexius' shouts echo through the room and hands hold Cullen to the table. His body rebelled attempting to expel the foreign life consuming him.

_I shall not fear the legion . . ._

But it is a legion waging war within him. Time slipped faster and faster and the buzz in his ears turned to a deafening roar. His body-changing and expelling the useless human pieces of his soul-twitched in agony.

Cullen tried to speak but his tongue could not speak. _My ears. There is warm . . .fluid. I bleed._

The boy that was once Cullen tried to escape. _Mia! Mia, help me. I’m scared!_

_Should they set themselves against me . . ._

Cullen’s tears flowed, but his tears felt. . . wrong. He struggled to remember the next line.

_In. . . In . . .In the hours of the night . . ._

He realized he bled from his eyes, his nose--even his sweat filled with blood.

_When hope has abandoned me . . ._

The wave of nausea subsided giving Cullen a moment to prepare before the sickness started anew. _I cannot. Maker take me, I cannot continue._

The fever dissipated and the nausea waves passed just as fast as they began. Cullen's gulping breaths failed to calm his rupturing heart.

_I still see the stars and know your Light remains._

He finished the verse and realized he is alone. There is no blood on his skin, no fire in his veins. His nails are longer as is his hair.

_______

The sound of a lock tumbler clicked. Cullen wondered if he had ignored the sound before. The sound echoed through the room. If Dorian continued to be so reckless he would be caught. 

“You must be mad, Dorian, clomping around like a horse. You will be discovered.”  Cullen was shocked at the deeper tone of his voice. “What did you do to my voice?”  Cullen’s light baritone voice had deepened. It reminded him of his father’s voice more coarse but it was still recognizable as his own.

Dorian’s face registered shock at seeing Cullen. “I did nothing, Cullen. You survived, perhaps I should congratulate you. You need a trim, Cullen. Those golden curls will be a distraction and your beard and nails as well it seems. Lucky for you, I take great pride in my appearance. I shall return with the girl who takes care of that for me.”

Cullen inhaled and held it. He spoke through his exhale. “How long, Dorian. How long have I slept?”

Dorian turned back to him. “Cullen you experienced time manipulation. You slept an hour or two at most. Alexius stuck you in his time magic field after he administered the compounds. Months passed within your circle, but today is the same day the treatment began.  Are you in pain?”

Cullen took another deep breath. He found no injuries; his mind looked at each part of his body. “Dorian. . .I can see within my body. How is this possible?”

Dorian leaned against the worktable. “If the notes are correct and I suspect they are as you are the first to survive this process in years; the compounds you took changed the human parts of you and enhanced them, your sight, hearing and your sense of touch. You are changing into a Witcher.”

“A what. . .no I am a Templar. I am no witch.” Cullen argued.

Cullen watched Dorian pull a book from the work table. “Not a witch, Cullen. A Witcher.  
You are changing. Your body processes, immunities, your senses all of them enhanced for one purpose; you will be a warrior against the monsters. In Tevene the closest word translation is “Hexer”. I’ll show you how to use what are called “signs”. It’s too soon to impart all that information. Tomorrow, the second phase begins.”

The sweat on Dorian’s brow signaled to Cullen. His breathing was not even. His eyes shifted when he spoke. “Why do you lie to me, Dorian?” Cullen watched as Dorian’s shoulders dropped.  “Alexius knows you are here. Did he send you to earn my trust? Is your _friendship_ part of the transformation?”

“No. he caught me with this book, but only this morning. Alexius told me to help you until that point I truly meant to help you and I _shall_ help you. Now, sadly my movements are watched.” Dorian moved in closer. “I swear to you, I will impart every last word, every image and every formula contained within these pages.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “When you are ready, I will help you leave. Remember that, Cullen. Sleep now, my friend. Tomorrow, Cullen Rutherford, Templar will breathe his last.”

_________________________________________________

After the first few hours of the morning, Cullen stopped shrieking with each new compound.  Only a few would be administered every day over the following three days.

The first night Dorian returned he gagged at the smell and the filth surrounding Cullen. Dorian had never been cross with Alexius’ servants, they were always kind to him. This was inexcusable. He marched up into the estate proper and dragged as many servants as he could arm with buckets and linens. “Bathe him and clean this room until not a single spot remains.” Dorian, who never lifted a finger in domestic chores toted clean water and used magic to scour and remove all traces of the days’ foul events.

Another servant arrived and trimmed his hair short and cut his nails. Dorian knew Cullen would age by ten years by the time the second phase completed. _A life lost for the glory of the Imperium._ He scoffed and went to work with healing magic. Dorians concerns mounted as he watched for signs of breathing and saw none. “No. Cullen, please do not tell me here is where you die. Damn you!” Then he saw the bellows of his chest expand. Several minutes passed before the air expelled from his lungs. _He will survive under water for a prolonged time, as the notes read._ “What have we done to you?”

Cullen did not wake. Dorian slipped out of the room again to await the horrors of a new day. The night met the dawn.

The second day brought a new dread to the estate. Ear-piercing screams and screeching plagued any souls unfortunate enough to stay within the confines of the estate. Alexius had sent his wife and son to stay with family away from his experiment. 

 “Please, no more. I cannot. I burn, I freeze you must stop.” Cullen pleaded for release.

Alexius could not stop. They were so close. “I cannot see the path. Say it!”

“I cannot see the path.” Cullen repeated the phrase.

“What is the next line, Cullen? Quickly!” Alexius bellowed from across the laboratory.

“I cannot see the path, Perhaps there is only abyss.” Cullen responded.

Alexius returned to Cullen’s side. “The next line, Cullen, tell me.”

“I cannot see the path, perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling I step forward, in darkness enveloped.” Cullen finished and fell silent.

Dorian met Alexius outside his laboratory. “Please end this madness. Magister, his cries are inhuman. We should work on the time magic and solve the instability issues.”

Alexius placed his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Look at what we have created! Think on what this could mean for the Imperium.”

Dorian shook his head. “No. The reason you succeed is Cullen. His resolve and his beliefs fuel the success of the process. There will be no others. You must see the truth in this.” Dorian’s face pleaded with Alexius. A blank stare devoid of feeling looked back.

In silence, master and apprentice looked for understanding between them. Dorian spoke first. “I will tend to him.”

“You let your emotions cloud your reason.” Alexius asked.

“I let _emotions_ cloud my _reason_?  You let _pride_ cloud your _judgement_. Yes, I know I am quite rude at the moment, but I must speak even if it is too late.  I wonder who is the condemned here, him or us. You should have left me in the brothel.” Dorian pushed the door and looked back at his mentor.

“What would you have me do, Dorian?” Alexius asked.

“There is nothing to be done. Cullen will die if you do not finish.  I can only hope that when ruin and chaos have had their fun with him there is the tiniest part of his humanity left. You took a good soul, Alexius, twisted and mangled all that should be into your own private monster. How proud you must be! To be honest, I will be amazed if he does not strike us both down to prevent us from trying again. I will serve my master’s will and find redemption elsewhere.” He entered the lab and closed the door behind him.

Dorian did not linger long. Cullen appeared to be asleep. As before, his hair and nails were trimmed. Dorian noted his hair was straightening as it grew and the color was leeching away revealing a stark white head of hair. Everything he did was trivial. “How does one atone for the betrayal of a friend?” Dorian mumbled to himself.

“Dorian it’s a little late for remorse. I heard you talking with Alexius.  I could listen to every conversation in this estate if I wanted. Your master created his monster. What next? Bring him the Imperium? Kill his enemies? Tomorrow is the final day and I promise you this. . . _I will not scream_. You want a monster? You’ll have one.”

Cullen lifted his head and opened his eyes. Dorian gasped and lost his footing as he stepped backwards.

_________________

“Cullen, shit, wake up already! I thought you never sleep.” Varric shook Cullen’s shoulder.

Cullen rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. He opened his eyes and looked on Varric’s smiling face. “Always a pleasure, Varric.”

Varric laughed. “Liar.”

 _It’s been a long time since I dreamt. Need to work on my focus._ “Tell me something, Varric. I locked that door. How did you get in here?”

The dwarf held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I have a key. Come on, you’ve forgotten all those late night break-ins with Hawke? She never opened a door, and you preferred to kick them open. I prefer subtlety.”

“Now who’s the liar, Varric?” Cullen chuckled and closed his eyes again.

“Cullen, come on, the princess is leaving today for the Hinterlands and _you_ are ordered to Denerim. I need to give you this, Hawke’s letter.” Varric handed a thick envelope to Cullen. “You know Hawke; it’s either a recipe for stew or a step-by-step account of how she plans to take out the Carta and where she needs you to help with her plan.”  

“Enough, Varric.  Ordered? Leliana hired me. I’m where I need to be.” Cullen said as he stood. He moved without effort, fastening his armor and harness. “Why are you still here? Go. Remember your promise. Keep her out of trouble.”

Varric spoke through his laughter. “Let me explain something to you, Curly. Rylen has armed Yennelyn with a dagger. I watched her this morning. If she doesn’t stab herself it will be a wonder.”

Rylen was becoming more irritating for Cullen as the days passed. “Leliana planned to meet with me this morning. I will speak with her after I find the elf, I mean Solas.”

“See Curly, you _can_ be civil. Do me a favor. Bring back something decent from Denerim. We will need it. Better hurry, we’re supposed to leave this afternoon.”

Cullen pulled Varric back towards him. “Varric, knock her out, tie her to a tree, and do whatever you have to for her safety. If a single hair is broken, we’ll go hunt dragons together and you’ll be the bait. Are we clear?”

Varric laughed in response and then stared up at Cullen. He wasn’t laughing. Not even the hint of a smile. “Now that’s exactly your problem, Cullen. How do you expect to make friends here if you threaten to use others as dragon bait?”

“I don’t.” He left Varric and cut through the woods. The small frozen  lake proved an easier path to find Solas. Cullen crossed the lake only to be met by Leliana and an elf.

Leliana stood with her hands behind her back and smiled. _She will not tell me anything today_. “I would like to speak with Solas alone, Leliana. I can see you have no intentions of honoring my request.”

Leliana handed two letters to Cullen, both with the royal seal. “Both of them wrote letters? Give me the short version, Leliana.”

“I do not know what you mean. Why do you think I know what information is inside the letters?” Leliana asked.

 “No lies, remember? Just give me the overview.” Cullen knew well Leliana had read the letters. He had nothing to hide.

“The King wishes to hire you to save Ferelden again, and the Queen wishes you to ignore the King’s request.” Leliana said holding back her laughter. “They are arguing in letters to you. You must respond to one of them. When you are able, please go to Redcliffe.  There is something off in Redcliffe Village and Teagan asked if I could send help.”

“Fine. I’ll leave when I am done here. You must be Solas.”  Cullen was surprised at how slight the elf appeared. His magic was strong, a healer, but there was so much of the Fade in him. Solas was hiding behind a barrier of magic. Cullen couldn’t see Solas’ magic as he could with so many others. He wondered if this was similar to the magic impacting Yennelyn.

“You spend too much time with spirits and the Fade. It’s all around you. You’re better suited to the spirits than to the waking world. Be careful playing with the Fade, it’s not always safe.”

Solas tilted his head to the right. “Thank you, I suppose for the compliment and the warning. What else do your senses tell you? Call it a curiosity, Ser Cullen.”

“I am not a knight. Cullen is enough.” Cullen stiffened at the old title.

“Then I am misinformed, apologies. I thought you were a Templar in the Order before your transformation. As to my question, what do your senses tell you?”

Cullen was not about to reveal everything he could read about the elf. He had barriers in place; Cullen could feel their hum through his senses.

“Reading you would be impolite Solas. You’re guarded as would any mage be in a village where a Seeker of Truth and no less than several dozen _Templars_ float around all day.”

Solas looked around and lowered his voice. “Am I to understand you no longer have allegiances to the Templars or the Chantry?”

 _Shrewd. Calculating._ Cullen smirked. He is smart to bring up the Chantry and the Order to be sure I did not react a certain way before he shared information. “I am not here to catch apostates, Solas. You know full well the purpose of my request to talk.”

The elf smiled. “Apologies. If the lady is who Leliana claims, there is much need for discretion; would that be a safe assumption?”

Cullen returned the smile and gestured towards the door of the nearest house. “A safe assumption. Will you speak in private? There are little birds with large ears out here.” Cullen stared at Leliana’s retreating back as she returned to Haven’s Chantry.

Once inside, Solas answered Cullen’s unspoken question. “We cannot remove the mark. It is ancient magic within her, to do so would forfeit her life. If the lady is Yennelyn of Ostwick, we have a much larger immediate problem.  If and when her magic awakens, she could prove too powerful.”

Disbelief clouded Cullen’s thoughts. “There has to be a way to stop the infestation of this magic that consumes her and allow her own to emerge without harm to anyone. Did she seal her magic away? Could someone bind themselves? I can tell she is not Tranquil.“

“What do your senses tell you about her?”

“Nothing, I see nothing. It seems that all she was is missing.”  Cullen said. “Somehow, Yennelyn has been taken from the body and left with the person you see now.”

“Then I will observe and speak with her. Perhaps she will reveal what caused this event for I do not believe the magic of the mark caused this to happen. I should like to speak with you again, perhaps when you are more at ease with me. I find your humanity intriguing for what I know of your kind.”

“Another time, I believe I am expected in Denerim.” Cullen gave a quick nod and went to collect Shade from the stables.  _He knows far more about this mark than he’s sharing. He’s cautious as I am._

Cullen reached the stables to find Yennelyn brushing Shade’s coat. Her eyes flicked to him and back to the horse for a moment and then returned to him. Cullen coughed and turned away to hide his laugh. “His name is Nightshade.”

Yennelyn continued to brush the horse and then she stopped. “Nightshade? Who names a horse Nightshade?”

“He belonged to an old friend. Someone who once helped me and the name was a joke, although I do not know the story. Shade has been with me for a long time. He should have died years ago.”  Cullen pushed on Shade’s neck. The horse swung his head at Cullen and then snorted. Cullen bumped his shoulder into Shade and the horse side stepped knocking Cullen into the side of the pen.

“Are you two quite finished?” Yennelyn laughed.

He stared at her. That was Yen. She’s said that exact sentence to him a month before they parted in Orlais.

_“Are you two quite finished? I’m trying to explain what I learned about Kirkwall and you and Shade are playing games? Cullen! Are you listening?”_

_Cullen laughed and grabbed her waist. “No. I’m not listening. I know Kirkwall was built by blood mages. The whole damn city is some kind of ritual setting. I heard about it in Tevinter. Now are we staying out here or can we find an inn?”_

_“Here I am trying to broaden your mind, and you’re already finding a place to take me to bed?”_

_Cullen hoisted Yen over his shoulder. “Yes. Is that a problem?”_

_Yennelyn kicked her legs which only forced a laugh from Cullen. Then he felt it, she would shock him. He placed her down and drew the Quen sign. A shield of magic surrounded him as she sent a volley._

_Yennelyn was not happy. “Did you use a sign against me?”_

_Cullen shrugged. “You tried to shock me first.”_

_“Bastard.” Yennelyn hissed._

_Cullen bowed. “My lady.” He stood and scooped her up again._

“Cullen? Are you ill?” Yennelyn asked. “Do you need help?”

He shook his head as the truth of Yen’s absence struck him again. “No, my lady, please stay close to your companions and be safe.”

Cullen seated himself on Shade and left her standing alone.

_______________________________________

9:31 Dragon  Denerim

_“Alistair, get her out of here now!” Cullen yelled. “Send up more legionnaires to take care of the darkspawn. This bitch is mine.” Cullen sprinted back to the Archdemon._

_Alistair carried Solona’s weakened body towards the tower exit. “Put me down Ali, I needed to catch my breath.”_

_“No, Sol, Cullen will finish this. He’s giving you a chance to live - for both of us to live.”_

_Alistair pushed Solona through the door and ordered the legionnaires to the fight. He left Solona with Wynne and returned to help Cullen. Cullen and Morrigan worked together on the ballista firing volley after volley. Alistair watched as the Archdemon staggered._

_“Morrigan, you’re done. Get back inside.” Cullen shouted over the roar of the dragon. “She’s almost finished.”_

_Morrigan moved closer to him and kissed him. “Come back, you fool.” She turned away as he ran once more to battle the dragon._

_Alistair grinned. “You and Cullen are together - how sweet and yet how entirely creepy.”_

_She ignored Alistair and wobbled towards the tower exit.  Alistair moved to Cullen’s position to guard his back. Alistair kept the darkspawn away from Cullen as he slashed at the tendons of the Archdemon’s legs. Cullen slashed and hacked at the leg until the tendon snapped and he heard the crunch of bone. The Archdemon’s head hung down for a moment and Cullen leapt to the snout and climbed behind the neck. He plunged both his blades through its neck. The dragon’s head dropped and hung to the side._

_“You’ve done it!” Alistair cried out._

_Cullen pulled out his blades and jumped to the ground. “Get out of here, Alistair. I’m not sure what is about to happen. Take care of Solona and see Morrigan safely wherever she wants to go.”_

_Alistair looked on Cullen with concern._ He’s saying goodbye.

_“See you.” Cullen smirked and returned to the Archdemon. He replaced the steel blade and repositioned himself for the final strike._

_Morrigan and Solona hurried out and shouted as Cullen lifted the blade over his head. Alistair held both women back. Cullen could hear the pleas, the shouting and he ignored all of it. Using all his strength, Cullen stabbed the Archdemon._

_A pillar of light broke free of the dragon and pierced the red sky. The pain he felt was strong, but he fought to keep control._ I can endure it _. Cullen twisted the blade and heard another crunch. The blood poured and pooled around him. Then the air shifted, crackled with power.  He felt the swell start - a small sphere of power in the Archdemon’s heart it pulsed and grew with each second._ No Witcher has ever killed an Archdemon. I lied to Solona. I don’t know what will happen . . . oh shit, here it comes. _Cullen twisted the blade one final time as the expulsion of light and magic sent him flying. His reflexes called into action, Cullen landed in a crouch and pushed the burn of the darkspawn blood out of his head._

_Morrigan broke free of Alistair and spun her magic quickly around him. She could not heal him completely, nor could she take the poisons from him but she would not see him suffer. “You are an even greater fool than I realized. No Witcher has ever killed an Archdemon. Idiot!  Where are your potions?”_

_Morrigan fussed and argued. Cullen realized he could not continue his path with Morrigan in tow. He would need to leave. “The pack is in the barracks. I’ll go.” Cullen said._

_“No. Stay here.” Cullen knew she would move swiftly down the stairs. He’d be able to leave without her noticing his departure._

_Cullen joined Alistair and Solona. “She will be angry with me. I have to go alone. If you need me, talk to Leliana. She will know how to reach me.”_

____________________________________

9:40 Dragon – Denerim

“Tell his Majesty, I’d rather walk naked than change into this, whatever it is. Never mind, this isn’t a social call.” Cullen finished his bath and put on his armor. He pushed his way through the halls until he reached Alistair’s study.

“Didn’t like the clothes, I take it?” Alistair said unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

Cullen leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Get to the point, Alistair. Are you hiring me or just arguing with your wife on paper?”

Alistair sat back in his chair. “Ferelden needs you, Cullen. I need you.”

“I didn’t know you cared, Alistair. This time? No tongue.” Cullen smirked.

Alistair stared. “Ugh. You still just love sticking it to me don’t you?” Alistair realized his words and put his head in his hands. “I give up - will you help?”

Cullen smirked. “You make this too easy, _your Majesty_. I made you a promise. Here I am. Tell me everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me hear from you! find me on tumblr eravalefantasy.tumblr.com or leave a comment here.


	4. Fissures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Cullen's past is slowly revealed through his dreams, the Inquisition continues its quest to seal the breach seeking allies. King Alistair sends Cullen to investigate Redcliffe Village at the same time Cassandra leads Yennelyn and her party to offer aid to Redcliffe. Cullen reconnects with an old friend who may be an important new ally for the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 notes: the true symbol of Ferelden is a Mabari, I took huge liberties and changed it in this AU because a lion would make a better Medallion for Cullen.

  _Chapter 4 Fissures_

_“Cullen, no further, please. Why did it have to be you?” Morrigan asked._

_Cullen took another soft step forward._

_Morrigan held up her hand. She searched his face for a sign of his intentions. “One more step and I leave. For good this time.”_

_Cullen didn’t need his senses to see the Eluvian was active. It was a portal, not a mirror. Morrigan found the way to activate it. She’d blamed him for Alistair’s refusal to take part in her ritual because Cullen could not allow a child to carry the Old God’s soul. Morrigan’s bitterness and anger grew when he left her atop Fort Drakon. She looked on him in a confused mess of pain and affection._

_“You were always so clever, Cullen. I can see you recognize this. Will you risk leaving your newfound friends? Could you follow a witch, Cullen? There is much we might learn together.  Once I enter, you will never see me again. Unless you come with me.”_

_He shook his head. “I found you once; I can do it again.”_

_Morrigan turned, looked at the swirling images in the Eluvian and sighed. “Why did you come here Cullen? Why you? Do not lie. I have grown so weary of your lies. Yet I am still curious. Tell me quickly why did you come?”_

_“I couldn’t let it end like that, Morrigan. What I did was unfair. I did not want to burden you with – “_

_She laughed, cold and bitter, the affection gone from her eyes. “And you once argued with me that love is not weakness! I will never understand you, Cullen.” Morrigan sighed.  “And you will never understand me.”_

_“The child Morrigan, I had to stop you. Hate me if you must. Morrigan, you do not fully understand what you would bring into the world.”_

_Morrigan’s eyes blazed. “Do not presume to speak of monsters, Cullen. You do not comprehend what is at stake. ‘Tis true I despise you for denying me. No harm was intended.  Once again, you spared the one woman you cannot have. You cannot stop what is to come. Not even the mighty_ _Lion of Ferelden himself can stop the change coming to this world.” Morrigan’s eyes grew wide.  “Fear change if you must. Fight it, Cullen with every fiber of your self-righteous being! Sometimes change is needed most. Sometimes change sets you free.”_

_She stepped up to him. “You will let me go, won’t you Cullen?” Morrigan brushed her lips against his. She gasped as he grabbed her wrist. “Will you come with me, after all?”_

_He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. “Morrigan. I wish that were possible.”_

_Morrigan struggled as his grip on her wrist tightened. “Cullen?” A glint of a dagger in his left hand caused her to writhe in his grasp. “I am no monster, Cullen! Void take you! Let me go!”_

_“When there are no more monsters left to fight, those who search for glory gather the darkness and make new monsters to torment the living.  I cannot allow you or your mother to rain down havoc and chaos. I will find Flemeth next.” Cullen stabbed Morrigan and pushed her through the Eluvian._

_Cullen could not bring himself to destroy the Eluvian. Morrigan would not return. Cullen was expected  at his next destination, across the Waking Sea to Kirkwall. Alistair had promised to send Cullen to the Viscount in Kirkwall to deal with the influx of Fereldens during the Blight. Alistair thought a Witcher in Kirkwall might help sort out the refugees and offer help in Kirkwall’s current plight._

Cullen woke again disoriented. Dreaming was becoming a habit he needed to break. Horrible memories and events filled his rest. He’d weaken if he didn’t resume his meditation cycle.

One thing rang true in his head. _I need to get back to Yen. I can’t leave this to Varric. She is not his responsibility._

_________________________

_“_ Varric, I need you to take care of this for me. Varric, can I count on you? Varric, cover my ass on this please? I’m getting a little tired of this shit. If it’s not Hawke, it’s Cullen." Varric sighed. "Who am I kidding, I will do whatever they ask – I don’t want to miss out on the fun." 

Yennelyn heard Varric talking to himself. “Someone asked you to look after me, didn’t they? Was it Commander Rylen? He’s been so kind. I should thank him when we return if we return.“

Varric avoided mentioning Cullen in front of Cassandra. “Rylen, you’re right it must have been Rylen.” Varric did not miss the glare from the Seeker.  _This will not end well if Cullen and Yennelyn don’t leave Ferelden soon._ Varric realized how much time had passed and still no sign of Cullen. Cullen should have returned from Denerim days ago. Where is he? Redcliffe Village had requested help and Cassandra was leading them to discover Redcliffe’s needs before the party returned to Haven.

Cullen and Shade rode parallel to the party’s movements; they were returning to Redcliffe Farms. As long as he took the surrounding trail, Cullen could stay hidden on the way to Redcliffe Village. He watched Yen from his position; her stride was strong and confident.  _She’s uninjured. Good._ He’d delivered Alistair’s letter to Horsemaster Dennett requesting he aid the Lady Trevelyan. Dennett explained the Lady’s party assisted the farmers with several tasks and he planned to agree to her request, but the King’s acknowledgement and directive would be honored.

Alistair and Solona asked much of their friend during his visit and Cullen would see it done. Redcliffe village was Cullen’s first stop. The walled gate stood ahead of him. He remembered the approach from his travels with Alistair and Solona. His lion medallion hummed. _Strong magic ahead_.

 All Witchers received a medallion upon completing their transformation.  There were three types of medallions; a wolf, a cat and a griffon, each representing the school of origin. Cullen was not affiliated with any of those schools and a special medallion was designed and made to distinguish him as part of the Imperium. The lion was chosen by Dorian. Cullen had suspected it was Dorian’s rebellious nature that made him choose Ferelden’s symbol. His medallion was forged of star metal, like one of his swords. Able to detect magic in any form from curses to spells, the lion’s head detected monsters born of magic and those like him, born of magic experiments.

The hum grew more pronounced as he climbed the hill. Horse and rider, acting as one sped around the fray of demons and through the gate. Cullen leapt from his horse and sent him deeper into the village.

Two Rage Demons, two Terror Demons and three Wraiths.  The green light of the fade rift would be a problem. The demons could be defeated but without Yen’s new magic the rift would remain open allowing more to come through the rift.

Soldiers and mages fought together.  Cullen needed the Rage Demons weakened first.  If left too long the demon would raise a barrier and increase in size. A mage skilled in ice magic would be required as none of Cullen’s blade oils would harm the demon.  Cullen called out to the mages. “Those skilled in ice magic concentrate your ice spells on the Rage Demon!”  Several of the mages nodded and Cullen turned his attention to the Wraiths. They might be dispatched by Cullen if he used the Ignii sign. He deflected the volleys of spirit energy and continued his advance. Cullen closed the distance and when the Wraith was close enough, he traced the Ignii sign; an opened ended triangle to ignite a blast of fire. The first Wraith sent back to the fade, Cullen took the other two and turned his attention back to the Rage Demons.

He stepped around a group of mages and felt a pull of intense magic. Time around him sped faster but his own movements slowed.  _Alexius is here_. _This is his damned time magic._ Cullen forced his muscles to wade through the viscous muck of slowed time. As he crossed the barrier he pitched forward to meet unaltered time and move free again.

The mages had weakened the Rage Demons and Cullen overpowered the first; his assault connecting with a slice from the right and a swipe left. The second Rage Demon followed as Cullen spun to his left and with two sharp strikes sent the Rage Demon back through the rift.  The Terror Demons remained. Cullen hoped to take the demon by surprise and stagger him into the time vortex, the slowed movements would give him the advantage. The Aard sign, a telekinetic burst of energy should propel the demon into the vortex and allow Cullen to attack freely. He blocked the demon’s swipes with his sword as he sidestepped and dodged the incoming attack from the left. The demon, in-between strikes staggered backwards near the time vortex and Aard sign drawn, fell into the vortex.

During his time with Dorian and Alexius, Cullen learned how to navigate the distortions. As long as he stayed anchored in the present time, his attack through the vortex would not be slowed. The Terror demon tried to shriek, but the vortex swallowed his attempt whole. Cullen hacked and swung his sword through the vortex connecting again and again until the Terror demon returned to the Fade. Cullen turned to find the final Terror demon defeated by the group gathered around him.

“Inside -  all of you, the demons will return.” He ushered the group inside as the guard captain ordered the gate to be lowered.  “Wait! Allow me to leave, there is someone who can help but I must be allowed to leave.”

The captain shook her head. “I can’t risk it. Thank you for what you did there, Ser.”

Cullen nodded. It wasn’t worth the effort to argue. “Tell me, where is the Arl? I was sent by the King.”  The conversation ended when  one of Leliana’s scouts approached.

The man turned his face to block the captain’s view and spoke in a hushed tone. “Where is the Herald? Sister Leliana sent us here to prepare for a meeting with the Grand Enchanter, but something is wrong here. When I saw you, Ser, I thought she might be with you.”

“Who is this Herald?” Cullen dreaded the answer to come.

The scout looked on Cullen with confusion. “I know who you are Ser. The Herald of Andraste is the Lady Trevelyan, and she is on her way here to meet with the Grand Enchanter. The Herald left Val Royeaux and returned to the Hinterlands recently.”

Cullen held up his hand.  _Alexius. I don’t feel him nearby, but he is here._  “Stay here. I need to look around.”  

A product of time magic and the mutagens of various monsters, Cullen’s body, tuned to the vibrations of magic, felt the distortions of time. It was this familiarity with the pulsing of time magic that led Cullen through the village. Three known mages could wield time magic: Alexius, Dorian and Yennelyn. This was not Yennelyn’s magic, this was compact, focused and stationary.  Yen’s time magic was chaotic and violent, used as a last resort.

A battle raged nearby. Cullen hurried along the path towards the Chantry and threw open the doors.  A mage stood alone fighting a Shade. The armor he wore was Tevene in origin and pretentious. Not practical, but more for visual impact. Cullen shook his head and stifled a laugh. The mage’s perfectly styled hair and the abundant overuse of flair maneuvers of the staff stayed Cullen’s urgency to help. He closed the doors and waited.  The Shade fell and Cullen called out to his old friend.

“Problem, Dorian?”

Dorian Pavus, turned to face the familiar voice. “Oh, my giddy aunt.”  He dropped his staff to a relaxed hold and stepped towards Cullen.   “You haven’t aged, you bastard, of course we did take ten years from you back then, so I assume it’s all evened out.” Cullen fought the urge to smile. “Andraste’s tits, is it possible you are even more annoyingly attractive? Probably just as dull, however. You never write, anymore. I was so lonely, I had to come looking for you.”

“Dorian. Can’t you say hello like everyone else?”

“No, I can’t. So what will it be? First one to strike wins or am I to be struck down in the prime of my life in payment for the horrors inflicted upon you in your youth?”

“Melodramatic, don’t you think?”  Cullen asked. “It’s good to see you.”

Dorian smiled. “What, no kiss? I’m hurt, Cullen.”

The Witcher laughed. “Still not my type, Dorian.”

The mage stepped around a time distortion and met Cullen. “This mess is Alexius, I followed him here. His time magic is highly unstable; speaking of highly unstable where is the lovely Yen? You realize the Archon is still searching for her.“  Dorian’s eyes widened as Cullen drew his sword.  “Let me guess, more uninvited guests to our little reunion?”

 _“_ Yes, let see if you can still fight or if your little toy there is just for show.” Cullen slid forward and took down a Shade as it materialized out of the rift.  Several more Shades converged and Cullen and Dorian worked together to dispatch them back through the tear in the Veil.  Cullen felt a familiar tug. Magic he had felt before. He reached out and found Solas on the path leading to the Chantry.

“Dorian, I can’t explain, but when you finish here, find me at the Gull. Yen has no memory so be gentle – you’ll see what I mean. I’ll fill you in on everything later. They can’t see I’m here.” Cullen hid in the shadows as the door opened.

Yen and the party stepped inside the Chantry. Varric caught the large frame creeping around the door and smiled.  _Slick, Curly._   

Cullen waited in the Gull and Lantern. He was positive Varric saw him leave the Chantry. It didn’t matter as long as Yennelyn and Cassandra were unaware of his presence. Dorian would not reveal him either. Cullen had a small group that trusted him and that he trusted without question.  Two of them were in Redcliffe’s Chantry.  Dorian was right about one thing. It was a matter of time before the Archon would think to look for Yennelyn in Southern Thedas.  He had to help her find her memory and take her away before that happened.

Redcliffe changed in the ten years since the Blight. The Gull and Lantern was not built when Cullen last arrived in Redcliffe Village.

_________________________________

_Cullen waited in tavern as Morrigan had directed him. It was Alistair who found Cullen first._

_Cullen sat back in his chair. “Is there a problem, Alistair?”_

_Alistair pointed to the chair across from Cullen and he gestured for Alistair to take a seat. “No problem. I wanted to talk with you about helping us. I understand that we need to be sure to keep our distance and I will make sure that Solona understands.  The point is . . . you helped us . . . in the tower. We need allies right now. I will admit you are intimidating . . . to me, but you can help us with the demons and creatures we will face. I want to keep . . . the party safe. “_

_Cullen smirked. “You’re good for her, Alistair. She’s different. I promise you have nothing to fear from me. I can’t give Solona anything more than my friendship and you’ve seen why.” Cullen leaned forward, trying to share information without insulting the man in front of him.  “The Grey Warden path is difficult, you must rely on each other and if it’s true you will be Ferelden’s next king – well, I’m all for stacking up favors to offset any future indiscretions. I admire your dedication to the Wardens and to Solona.”_

_Alistair seemed confused at the sincerity of the Witcher who sat across from him. “Thank you, I guess. I admit, everything I’d heard about . . . men like you was not positive. You are the opposite of the stories, Cullen. Why is that? Solona mentioned you were a Templar, is that true?”_

_Cullen closed his eyes. “Alistair, I need assurances I can trust you. I am hunted almost wherever I go. The Chantry, the Seekers and the Templars they all would see me dead. If I share more about who I am, I need your word. As an ally, I will swear to protect you and Solona and see you through to your goals whatever they may be. You tell me I am needed and I will be there. But I will warn you now – cross me in any way and you will not live to see the next dawn. Do we have an agreement?”_

_Alistair realized this was a binding contract between them. “Keep her alive and I will offer you my protection as King of Ferelden for as long as I live. “_

_Both men understood the agreement was set between them. Cullen continued. “I believe the short version is best. I was a Templar assigned to Ferelden’s Circle.  I met Solona there and yes, she flirted with me even though it was inappropriate. I’ll even admit to a crush.” Cullen sat forward as his story took a turn. “I was eighteen and joined a small group for a training exercise – recovery.”_

_Alistair had never been a part of a mage recovery exercise. He heard of them in discussions and overheard conversations. When a mage tried to leave the Circle, they could be tracked, the recovery exercise helped young Templars learn what was expected of them._

_Cullen continued. “I do not remember how I was taken. I woke in a dark laboratory somewhere in Tevinter. The rest - only two people have knowledge of the full tale. One is an old friend. The other should pray to the Maker I never find him.”_

_Alistair did not look at him. “This other man, he made you into a Witcher against your will?”_

_Cullen’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes. What happened is not fit for human ears, Alistair. You took the joining. I know nothing of the experience, but it changed you, altered you. Surely you know of the fears and concerns that would be a part of such a change?”_

_Alistair nodded. “I did not understand everything. Solona does not comprehend what it means for the future, even if we survive, I can’t give her- “_

_“Alistair. The Blight first, then the happy ending.”_

_Alistair grinned. “Agreed.”_

______________________________________________

When the Blight was over, Cullen left for Rivain before Alistair’s coronation. Leliana would stay in contact with him through letters and messengers, but Cullen planned to disappear. Rivain offered him the best chance to remain hidden. Except for the land bridge between Rivain and Antiva the country was almost surrounded by water.

Cullen knew the aversion to the Chantry teachings and the influence of the Qun in Rivain would be perfect. He would be left alone. A Witcher in a country full of seers, wise woman and hedge mages where possession was considered acceptable in society and redemption was found outside the Chantry appealed to Cullen. Rivain, a matriarchal society, allowed magic to be practiced freely. The Chantry and the Circle existed, but they tolerated each other and the more traditional Rivaini women.

He appreciated the support between communities and he was accepted readily as a Witcher. Rivain needed protection from unscrupulous traders and those looking to cheat communities thought less intelligent. Cullen spent most days as a visible presence in negotiations. It was in this capacity Cullen found himself at one of the shipping docks when he first met Yennelyn. The meeting was brief, with no promise of a future. Cullen continued on in Rivain and the surrounding areas looking for work.

Llomerryn, an island off the coast of Rivain is where Cullen spent most of his time. The markets there afforded him a steady stream of the supplies he needed and a steady flow of work. He’d found himself among the undesirables of Thedas and in their mutual distrust of the Chantry business partnerships and opportunities kept Cullen busy. Most days Cullen could be found wandering the docks, getting pulled in to one job or another from early morning hours until long after dark. Six months after he arrived, Yennelyn appeared once again.

_The morning brought no new contracts and Cullen was wondering if he should return to Rivain. He looked out over the docks as he stood guard. Over the mass of people, goods and animals he saw her. It was the woman from the docks in Rivain. The way she’d looked at him and spoke to him that day left him wanting more. She’d pulled a cloak around her shoulders and kept looking behind her. Cullen scanned the crowd to pinpoint who chased her but there were too many souls to wade through to find out. He tried to pull her gaze, at six feet he towered over most of the Rivaini. He watched her cast spells of concealment, another of glamour and then he felt it- time magic._

_“No! Don’t there are too many!” He yelled over the crowd. Her panicked eyes found him. Cullen nodded to her and beckoned._ What are you doing? You don’t know who is chasing her.  _Cullen argued with himself as she pushed her way through the crowd to stand before him._

_“Casting time magic this close to so many people, you’ll injure the innocent and tear some of them apart. Who seeks you?” Cullen asked._

_She was out of breath and swallowed hard as she tried to steady herself. Cullen offer his arms to her and she grabbed at them to steady herself. “My father’s men. I can’t go back. You’re the Witcher, the Templar. Here.” She shoved a ring into his hands, gemstones, by the feel of it. “Take me to Orlais. It’s not safe for me anywhere in the North. I can disappear in Southern Thedas.”_

_Cullen looked over her head and saw five men scanning and pushing their way through the crowd. He needed a plan. Where they now stood, the men would converge on their position within minutes and she would be discovered. Cullen shifted his body in front of hers._ _Five men. I might take down two or three before others joined the fight but there has to be a better way._

_“There has to be a better way.” Cullen said. He turned and looked into her face. “I need you to trust me and when I tell you to run – “_

_Her eyes widened and her breathing sped. She stared into his face. “They’re here. Forgive me.” The moment the words left her lips she grabbed him to her and kissed him. Cullen, startled at first, pulled away. She laid her right hand on his cheek and echoed his words. “I need you to trust me.” She slipped her hand around his neck and coaxed him to meet her lips again. He was gentle with her, but she met his tender touch with an intensity he’d not experienced. Women were a part of his life, but a diversion or a necessary evil to extract information. This was entirely new. Each kiss was more eager than the one before it. He could hear and feel the sharp intake of breath from her as she continued the assault on his senses.  The scent he remembered was stronger now, lemon, vervain, rosemary and hint of lavender. He fought to keep his senses clear on the danger now converging on them hiding in plain sight._

_Her hands roamed across his chest and around his waist. When her hand wandered around to his back and down to rest on his backside, he groaned and took her hand away. Cullen broke the kiss and whispered in her ear. “Do that again and I won’t be able to stop.”  She sighed as he nipped at her earlobe._

_Cullen heard the admissions of her pursuers through the crowd as they admitted to each other their target was lost. His laugh, low and seductive to her ears, rumbled through his chest and coaxed another sigh from her._

_Cullen spoke first. “That was. . . nice. Although the next time you want a kiss, just ask. As much as I enjoy being groped by one as lovely as you, it might be helpful if  you told me your name.” Cullen teased._

_“Nice? That was far better than just nice, Cullen. Before you ask how I know you, my name is Yennelyn. The Archon’s daughter? Magister Alexius told us all about you and now you are the only soul in all of Thedas that can help me.” She looked up at him, her violet eyes wide in desperation._

_“You have an interesting method to ask for help, Yennelyn. Lucky for me, I guess.” Cullen said. He smirked and turned facing the crowd again. No one paid attention to them as the conversation continued._

_Yennelyn rested her head on his back. “I can help you, with contracts, gold and whatever else you need. Please, Cullen. I need your help. I believe together we can stop what is to come. I’ve seen the future. We need one another. Cullen you must trust me. In Orlais, Kirkwall and Haven - in all of these cities we stand together.”_

_Cullen searched his memory of time magic._ _Now it makes sense - she saw her own path, and I was in it. That explains her intimate familiarity with me. “The Archon’s daughter can perform forbidden magic. No wonder you are hunted.” Cullen turned to face Yennelyn again and grasped the fabric of her hood.  As he lifted the hood and placed it around her head he sighed. “You’re going to be trouble aren’t you.”_

_Yennelyn smiled. “Oh, after that little display, I think you’ll be able to keep up with me just fine.”_

______________________________________

_“_ That ridiculous grin on your face tells me you were thinking about Yen.” Dorian teased as he sat down and placed two bottles and cups between them. Cullen’s choice of table left them all the way in the back away from the other patrons. Dorian’s expression fell as he continued. “I cannot say what was done to her, but her memory loss is not a ruse. If I did not know her well, I would insist that there is not one speck of magic in her.” Dorian poured a glass for both and took a sip and a sour look crossed his face.

“Please tell me there is something better than this wherever we are going.” Dorian looked into the cup and pushed it away.

Cullen leaned back against the wall. “Dorian, you’ll finish these bottles off, swill or no. What I need from you is information. Where is Alexius and how guarded is he?”

Dorian raised his hands. “No. No, Cullen. Don’t be foolish. Alexius wants Yen. He will draw her out and take down this little band of rebels you’ve found yourself all caught up in – might I add again.  Have you learned nothing from Kirkwall? Are you willing to once again risk your life and hers for people you barely know? Cullen, you continuously sacrifice yourself for these people. The Blight, Kirkwall, now this Inquisition? Cullen, the Seeker is with them. Each day you stay within her reach is another opportunity to kill possibly the last Witcher in Thedas. Why do you risk your life?”

“A friend of mine once told me something, Dorian. I asked him why he helped me in spite of his loyalties and he told me ‘because it is the right thing to do’.”

Dorian laughed. “I have my moments, yes.” His expression melted into concern. “This is different Cullen. Alexius is obsessed with Yennelyn, once he finds out you are here as well, he’ll lose all reason. You might find this interesting. Alexius has joined the Venatori. You remember them, don’t you?”

Cullen did remember the Venatori. Half-crazed cult of mages, rogues and warriors who fight in the name of a long dead Magister. Cullen read the accounts. The Conductor of Silence was dispatched by the Archon just before the First Blight. There were sudden surges in cult members throughout Tevinter from year to year. Cullen usually was hired to clean out these dens of cultists as they surfaced. “Why is Alexius throwing in with the Venatori?”

The mage sighed and took another drink, directly from the bottle. “It’s Felix. He’s very ill. Do you remember when Lady Livia was killed? She and Felix were traveling to Hossberg. Darkspawn attacked their caravan. The Lady did not survive and Felix . . . he contracted the Blight.”

Cullen pounded the table with his fist. “I can help him Dorian, we can try to help him.“  He leaned closer and whispered. “The Swallow potion and the White Honey potion worked as you thought. The two Wardens? The taint is gone. They live free. It could work for Felix.”

Shock stabbed through Dorian’s chest. “You didn’t. Cullen, those potions are meant for you only, what if they had died? Felix is not as strong as a Grey Warden and I won’t be a part of that, Cullen. I’m surprised you took such a risk for another order that hunted Witchers as demons. Why would you?” Dorian realized what Cullen shared _. King Alistair. He’d freed King Alistair of the taint._ Dorian stood abruptly and fought to keep the volume of his voice low. “Cullen, you have gone completely and utterly mad! You could have been charged with any number of crimes if they perished. This misguided sense of duty you harbor for Ferelden will be your undoing.”

Cullen did not agree. “Dorian now is time for choosing sides. My choice is to stand with Yen and this Inquisition. As soon as she regains her memory, I will take her away. Until then, my friend, think of the fun.”

Dorian scoffed. “You truly are delusional. Demons dropping out of the Fade, one of the most – if not the most powerful mage in all Thedas is somehow bound magically and the Venatori awake after how long and you think of all this as fun?”

Cullen smiled and nodded. “Think on this. Until Yen has her memory back, she won’t remember how much she detests your particular brand of humor, Dorian. You’ll have a whole new person to torment.”

Dorian stood and pushed his chair away. “So this Haven, exactly how bad is it?”

“It’s a frozen shit-hole in the Frostback Mountains, Dorian. I have five silver you’ll last two minutes before you complain.”

Dorian shivered. “I’m taking the under on that, my friend. I already dislike it.”

______________________________________

Cullen and Dorian arrived in Haven after Yennelyn and her party. Dorian went inside to present himself to the advisors.

A familiar face stepped in front of him. “What the hell are you doing here?”  Cremisius Aclassi. He was part of a band of mercenaries Cullen had encountered in his travels. Cullen first met Krem and the Iron Bull in a tavern in one of the border towns in Tevinter. They’d joked around, drank and ended up in one hell of a fight.  The Iron Bull was a Qunari mercenary. Not really a friend, but Bull could be trusted to do the right thing when faced with a dilemma.

“Slumming, Krem. Where’s Bull?” Cullen asked.

“You know the Chief, Witcher. He’s bashing heads, drinking excessively and parading around half naked chasing redheads.”  Krem laughed. “I’ve been trying to get anyone to talk to me. The Chief wants to talk with the Inquisition. Any chance you can help me?”

Cullen nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, Krem.”

“Thanks, Cullen. We’re on the Storm Coast. Should I tell the Chief about you?” Krem asked.

“Better not. It’s more fun to take him by surprise. I’ll pass along your message.”

Krem gestured behind him. “I should head back. Thanks, Cullen.  It’s a good thing you’re around.” Krem turned and ran towards the main gate.

 Cullen smiled on his way back to Taigen’s house.  Bull and the Chargers could be helpful to the Inquisition.  He saw the small set of boot prints in the snow leading to the cabin.  Cullen knew the house was not empty before he opened the door. He was not surprised to find Cassandra waiting for him.

Cullen unbuckled his harness and laid his weapons aside. “I wondered when you would get around to me, Lady Pentaghast.”

Cassandra sat down and the table and invited Cullen to join her. “Varric must think I am a complete idiot. I would like to hear what happened in Kirkwall after the Arishok was defeated; tell me what happened after you arrived.”

Cullen straddled the chair to sit. “Do I have a choice?” Cullen was not about to reveal any information about Yen’s involvement in Kirkwall.

Cassandra removed her gauntlets and tossed them on the table. “No, you do not have a choice. I am prevented from harming you or Lady Trevelyan in any way. Apparently, your reach extends to Ferelden’s King and to the Empress herself. Leliana supplied me with orders from both that you are not to be touched. Why is that, I wonder? The Maker sends me a frightened girl to fight the demons and then it seems her champion is one of their own. Explain this to me. “

Cullen encountered this attitude in his travels. He’d met many who called him _demon_ or _monster_. Until he was needed in Orlais, he was hunted by Templars and Seekers alike. When the Empress herself summoned him to her side, Cullen was sure it was a trap. The Empress claimed she was being stalked by a demon in her dreams. In the end it turned out a cursed item had been recovered and placed in her vault. Cullen was able to destroy the item in question. A simple task, but Empress Celene harbored an acute interest in the arcane and in Cullen. He’d politely declined her offer to remain in her company, but she reserved the right to request his help if the need for his skills arose.

Cullen stared back at Cassandra. “Why the sudden interest in Kirkwall? Varric no doubt shared the story in detail. The Chantry exploded, the Circle fell, and the city tore itself apart. Kirkwall was on a path to self-destruction long before I arrived. I stopped Meredith and Orsino. I was not responsible for the Mage uprising, or the start of the war.”

Cassandra looked down at the table and sighed. “Varric is a liar. The story he told me was complete fabrication. I am hoping that the stories of your honesty and integrity are not fabrications and you will tell me what you are able to about the events in Kirkwall.”

Cullen could tell there was more to her request. “You seek Hawke. Marion Hawke disappeared and I have not seen nor heard from her since you requested I come to Haven.”  _Not an outright lie, Hawke’s letter is still unopened in my pack._  Cullen believed Hawke had been through enough and he would not give any information that might alert Cassandra that Hawke was now in Orlais.

“Cullen, let me share this with you. Lady Trevelyan is not a suitable leader for the Inquisition. We need Hawke to lead these people. I can see in your face you disagree.” Cassandra said. “I cannot recommend you to lead the Inquisition. Hawke is my last option.”

Cullen held back his aggravation.  “Keep Rylen out of the Lady’s head and she will prove she can lead. I understand he coddles her. You leave her out of discussions, assuming she is incapable of understanding strategy. Give her a chance. The Lady’s memory may be weak but her mind is not.” Cullen saw the opportunity to mention the Chargers. “The Lady should meet with mercenaries now fighting on the Storm Coast. Let her secure their help. Do this and I will share what I can about Kirkwall.”

Cassandra agreed. “I will send the Lady tomorrow to the Storm Coast.” Cassandra settled into her chair. “Tell me how you came to arrive in Kirkwall?”

Cullen could not implicate King Alistair as the reason for his arrival in Kirkwall. A carefully placed lie was the best course of action. “The Viscount requested my help before he was murdered. I arrived just after Hawke and her companions stopped the Qunari and defeated the Arishok. So it was Hawke who ultimately accepted my offer of aid.”

 Cassandra was told by Varric that Cullen was in Kirkwall before the first uprising; Cullen’s account differed from the first few steps. She hoped the Witcher would be able to lead them to Hawke.

“Continue please, Cullen.” Cassandra urged and hoped she would finally learn what happened to Marion Hawke.

_I am not Varric. I can’t make this up as I go along. Most of what I share will be the truth. I can only hope that I do not reveal too much of any of us. I had to kill Morrigan -  she left me with no choice and Flemeth escaped before I could find her. I was left to help pick up the pieces in a city that needed more than I could offer. Hawke provided me with a diversion from Morrigan’s death, leaving Yen and failing Solona. Finally, a woman who did not want a part of me. Hawke wanted a partner in crime; a compatriot to act outside of the rules set by the Circle and the Mages.  Perhaps it was the Maker’s will that guided me to Kirkwall. My only regret was I could not free Anders before his spirit passenger lashed out at the living._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me your thoughts on Cullen as a Witcher!


	5. Splintered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to meditate, memories of the past haunt Cullen's rest and waking steps. He seeks help from Dorian and Solas to find a way to build his strength and continue to aid the Inquisition. Cullen and Dorian wonder if Alexius, the Venatori and old tales of ancient entities signal a dark purpose ahead of them as the Inquisition gathers more allies and prepares to meet with the mages in Redcliffe Castle.

Ch  5 Splintered

 

_Cullen rolled to his right and tried to stand. His footing gave way as the Wyvern advanced and hissed. Cullen scrambled backwards as the Wyvern slashed at his chest. The deep welt left by the claw would heal but Cullen needed to gain control of this fight._

_He circled to his left around the creature and tried to rush forward. The Wyvern’s jaws snapped at Cullen forcing him back again._

_“Stop! Please, stop.” Dorian yelled from the wall. He whistled a high piercing tone, and the Wyvern moved off.  Dorian tossed the creature an apple. “Good boy.” Dorian threw another, and the Wyvern caught it and ambled towards the back of the courtyard._

_“Cullen. It looks like you’ve faced nothing with a sword in your hand. This Wyvern is a gentle guard dog. He’s a runt for his breed and he’s beating you. This is pathetic.”_

_Cullen leaned on his sword while Dorian continued. “I thought you were considered to be one of the best. I weep for the Order if that’s true.” Dorian closed his eyes. “Never mind. I’ll get you a proper trainer. Perhaps we should try to work on the signs again.”_

_Cullen’s head dropped. “Dorian, I’ve been fighting that_ guard dog _for four hours while you sat on the wall criticizing me. I believe I was ahead except for these last two fights. Why don’t you change places with our little Wyvern and let me see how I do?”_

_Dorian laughed. “Another time. Time to review the signs.”_

_Cullen replaced the sword on the weapon rack and mumbled to himself._

_“I heard that!” Dorian shot back._

_Cullen scaled the wall in two steps. “Dorian. I need to rest.” Cullen stretched on his back atop the wall._

_“Cullen, the signs are important to combat and your survival. I should think you’d be a little more enthusiastic.” Dorian understood Cullen’s desire to rest, but pushing him to his limits was part of his training._

I’m losing patience and he’s trying to help _. Cullen covered his face with his right forearm and sighed. “This is enthusiastic. Remember the lesson about reduced emotional reactions due to the mutation process? This is me, jumping up and down.” Cullen yawned. “Give me a few hours of sustained enthusiasm and then we will continue.”_

_Dorian threw a fireball at Cullen’s feet. “No. What’s the shield sign? You have until the count of three to prepare. One . . .”_

_Cullen sat up. “Dorian, do not push me when I’m tired. You will get hurt.” The signs, simple magic activated through a small gesture, were another tool of even the newly transformed Witcher._

_The Quen sign was a short-term shield. Quen was a triangle drawn on its point folded in on itself._

_“Two . . .” Dorian sent another fireball. Cullen quickly prepared the Quen sign as a shimmering sphere enclosed him in safety. The fireball dissipated._

_Cullen’s anger found a foothold. In most situations, he could temper his emotions; Cullen maintained more of his human personality than originally expected. His temper would flare when he was agitated or badgered as Dorian was attempting to do. He jumped off the wall and cast Yrden, a sign to slow his target._

_Dorian was not prepared and found himself caught and unable to move. Cullen followed suit with Aard, the knock back sign and Dorian landed on his rear on the ground. Anger mounting, Cullen released the Igni sign and sent a blast of fire over Dorian’s head. “I think I’m sufficiently versed, Dorian. Now, It’s nap time for the pissed off Witcher. Go play fetch the mage with the Wyvern.”_

_“Only if you let me tuck you in, Cullen.” Dorian said. He was treading on Cullen’s nerves as it was, but this was too easy an opportunity to pass up for one final jab._

_Cullen glared at Dorian and left mumbling to himself. Dorian’s laughter followed him out of the courtyard._

__________

Cassandra’s voiced pulled Cullen out of his memory. “Cullen? Perhaps we should continue another time. Are you unwell?”

 _I need to find Dorian._ “I would appreciate any time you can give me Lady Cassandra. Tomorrow would be best to continue our discussion.”

“Tomorrow I will leave with the Lady to the Storm Coast as you suggested. We should return in just under fourteen days. We will talk again then.”

Cullen agreed without complaint.

Cassandra watched Cullen at the table. He had been polite, accommodating and respectful. These traits did not exist in those she had investigated for the Divine _. Perhaps Leliana is right about him._ Cassandra stood and was surprised that he rose as well. _This Cullen exhibits manners and behavior better than most here –all this from a Witcher? Who are you Cullen?_ “I look forward to our discussion.” Cassandra said.

He watched her leave and fell into the chair. “If I don’t find a way to clear my head, I’ll be of no use to anyone. Dorian is most likely in the tavern.” Cullen said aloud.

The fatigue of countless dreams and memories plaguing his thoughts weighed on his muscles. Each step more painful than the last. Cullen lumbered his way along the paths until he reached the tavern. Dorian and Varric sat together in a corner with a blonde elf laughing and drinking. Dorian’s face sobered as he watched Cullen trudge to the table.

“Andraste’s tits, what happened to you? You need to sit down, right now. Sera move over. This is Sera, by the way, another addition to the group.” Dorian said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sick.”

Cullen sighed. “Dorian, I can’t meditate and I keep falling asleep. When sleep comes, the memories. . . Why?”

Varric saw the vulnerability in his friend and it bothered him.  “Come on Buttercup, it’s time for talk about creepy shit. I’ll get the next round.” Varric pushed Sera from the table towards the bar.

“I want to hear the creepy shit. Hey! Watch it!” Sera tried to whisper, but in her half inebriated state she was still loud. “That’s a Witcher, never seen one. Creepy, but they’re a good sort. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

Varric chuckled. “He’s one of the best, trust me.”

Dorian half-smiled as Varric walked away. “You’ve proven Alexius wrong, you know. Cullen Rutherford survived inside you. You aren’t the monster he tried to create . . . and I think that is exactly the problem. Dorian placed his hand near Cullen’s on the table. Despite years of teasing and innuendos, Dorian looked on Cullen as a brother and friend. The pain reflected in his friend’s eyes troubled him. “You need to go. Leave here now and get away. Go to the Anderfels or to Llomerryn. I’ll watch over Yen, I swear. Cullen, your Maker saw fit to give you back your humanity and you would sacrifice it for someone who may never return to you.”

Cullen glowered at Dorian. “Don’t Dorian. This is not her fault. Do not make this about Yen.”

“Of course this is about Yen.” Dorian hissed. “Everything comes down to her, doesn’t it? She tells you some preposterous tale about seeing you in all these cities and you believe her. She tells you that you’re _meant to be together_ and you believe her. She’s the Archon’s daughter! Do you truly believe everything with you is just happenstance? You’re cleverer than this Cullen. Stop thinking like a teenaged boy with a crush and be the man you are meant to be.”  

His faced burned. Dorian had never attacked Yennelyn like this before. “Don’t you mean be the man I was made to be, Dorian? I came to you for help. Not for judgement.”

Dorian features softened. “You’re right. My words were cruel and I apologize. There is no potion, no formula I can impart to you that might help. I think Solas may have a solution. If he can help you to meditate within the Fade, not in the present as you do, perhaps you might find the rest you require. Shall I talk with him?”

“No. I believe my head is still clear enough of Yen’s influence to walk unaided. See you around.” Cullen pushed himself up and labored to the door.

Dorian realized he’d pushed Cullen too far. Varric returned to the table with Sera in tow. “What the hell did you say Sparkler? Let me guess, the princess right? Cullen forgets reason when it comes to her. This whole fuck up is getting to him that’s clear.”

“An unfinished life, that’s my crime.” Dorian muttered. “I did nothing to stop it; I took what should have been an honorable life and left it unfinished.” Dorian stood and excused himself.

____________

Dorian’s idea had possibilities. The Fade was avoided by Witchers. When you are made of the creatures that inhabit nightmares, you do not wish to occupy the same space as those nightmares. Cullen understood the dangers that lurked in the Fade. He’d faced them in the waking world. If Solas could navigate the Fade like the Tevinter Somniari once could, Cullen might find rest.  

He stumbled out of the tavern and nearly fell into Solas. “You are unwell. I am unsure if I will be able to offer you any aid, Ser Cullen.”

Cullen did not reply to Solas’ use of an old title. “I would like to sit and talk. Perhaps you can assist me.”

Solas nodded and ushered Cullen into the cabin. He sat across from Cullen and waited.

Cullen leaned back. “Normally, I require a meditation period to rest and heal. I’ve been falling asleep instead since I arrived in Haven and this brings up memories in dreams. I should experience none of this and I am losing my strength. Dorian suggested you might show me how to meditate within the Fade.”

Solas watched the man. “I think I understand. Let me show you.”

Cullen closed his eyes and breathed deep. Gone was the mountain air, the smell of snow and evergreen. Gone was the crunch of footsteps on snow, brush and frozen ground.

“What do you smell?" Solas asked. “Tell me everything you can sense before you open your eyes.”

Cullen smelled the living water. He heard the slosh of a light ripple against the dock, the plonk of a fish breaking the surface.  A light breeze moved his hair aside in a gentle caress, a welcome to a place long since abandoned. “My home.” Cullen exhaled and smiled as he opened his eyes and found his lake, his sanctuary untouched. “Maker’s Breath, how did you do this?”

Solas leaned against the dock post and smiled at the exclamation. _The man still lives within and still believes._  “This is surprising. I expected something far different. The tranquility here is most inviting and I can see why it has been a refuge for you since you were very young.”

Cullen focused on the water and saw a strange shimmer of light, a wave passing through that was neither water nor air. He frowned.

Solas continued. “You can see the Fade through the illusion. I must apologize; my understanding of your kind is limited as I have said before. You are _remarkable_. You should seek this place in the Fade when you need it. I will guide you when you are in Haven or should you travel with us. Within a short time, you will no longer require my help, Ser Cullen.”

Cullen raised his hand to stop Solas, but he continued. “No, you should not abandon who you once were. Your actions dictate you are not a selfish creature, Cullen. Whoever aided you through your transformation allowed you to keep the best of you and I will continue to address you as is my choice. Rest now and we will speak again.”

___________________________________________

Cullen spent the next week with Solas learning how to offset the onslaught of memories with time in the Fade. Dorian poured through Cullen’s copy of the Witcher journal and Alexius’ journal looking for a cause of the mental onslaught Cullen was dealing with on a daily basis.  Alexius’ journal disappeared from Dorian’s belongings. He’d complained, but the journal was useless to anyone who could not read the strange code Alexius often wrote. Dorian was positive it had been lifted from his bunk.

Varric brought Cullen information about the Inquisition. In the time that had passed since the Val Royeaux visit, more allies gathered to aid the Inquisition. Sera, another elf Cullen met at the tavern. Varric warned she was fascinated with the Witcher and would most likely want to talk with him at length. Blackwall was a Grey Warden. Leliana warned Cullen before the Warden arrived to allow him to keep his distance to prevent any exposure. Varric left the worst for last. Cullen felt her when she arrived in Haven. Vivienne, formerly from the Circle at Ostwick was known to him. Ambitious, ruthless and a master in the Game, Vivienne or Madame de Fer as she was known had clearly taken advantage of Yennelyn’s condition.

“Varric, I need you to work out that Vivienne never has the chance to be with Yen alone on a mission. They have a deep history and it’s not friendly. I’ll make sure Madame de Fer understands that I am watching her.” Vivienne was cunning, dangerously so, Cullen had been hired to investigate her as a blood mage but found no proof. The contract was completely bullshit; it had been ordered by a rival to remove Vivienne from Duke Bastien’s company. What Cullen discovered was worse. Vivienne was more powerful than she professed to be. She’d killed several rivals, if her diary was truth and she’d plotted to win the Duke of Ghislain’s heart from the start. There was no chance meeting, Vivienne was not part of the envoy from the Circle of Montsimmard as she often claimed. She’d cursed another in the Circle to take her place to guarantee her spot at the Wintersend Ball in 9:16.

Cullen had no proof she intended harm to the Inquisition and she was also protected by the Empress.

 “Tell me something, Curly. Is there anyone in power you haven’t pissed off or frightened into hiding? I need another, your turn?” Varric jiggled the mug to show it was empty.

Cullen crossed to the bar, picked up another round for Varric and placed it in front of him. “Not that I can recall. You know me, I like to be consistent.”

Varric lifted the mug in thanks and laughed. “Curly, I’ll say this. It’s never been dull.”

_____________________________________

Yennelyn’s party was expected to return around midday and the news of a Qunari mercenary had spread throughout Haven. Leliana and Cullen spoke in her tent sharing what information they both had about the Chargers and their unique commander.

“Leliana, Bull is a brawler, good in a fight and fiercely loyal. Those are his good points and his bad ones. There’s more to him, but it’s not my place to reveal another’s secrets. That’s your job, remember?”

Cullen and the Chargers met during one of his missions in the Dales in a supposed haunted forest. Turned out the forest was crawling with Sylvans. Bull and the Chargers were tiring themselves with axes and torches when Cullen arrived.

_One of the men in the party ran to Cullen’s position. “Ser, the forest is haunted; you should find another way around.”_

_“No, it isn’t. Those are Sylvans – a tree possessed by a demon, usually a Rage demon. The torches are ok for the tree, but if the demon comes at you, leave the torch and hit it with your axe. The torch will only feed the demon.“ Cullen offered. “I was hired to clear out the demons and by the look of it, you were too. Need a little help?” Cullen ran into the fray. He rolled clear of a tree limb that crashed in his previous position. He didn’t bother with his swords, hacking away at giant trees would only weaken his blades. Cullen continued his push towards the center to where a large Qunari male hacked away at a tree. Cullen’s Yrden sign, two triangles horizontally laid point to point slowed the Sylvan. The Qunari was surprised at the slowed motion. When Cullen drew the Igni sign and a blast fire ignited the Sylvan. The Qunari yelled and continued his melee._

_Cullen fought the remaining Sylvans with the party until each possessed tree they encountered fell._

_The Qunari approached Cullen and slapped him on the back. “Name’s Bull – The Iron Bull and these are the Chargers. I’ve always wondered if you were real, Witcher. There’s more than a few in Tevinter and points north that want to get a hold of you. After that display, I wouldn’t want to be the one to try to bring you in.”_

_“I’m Cullen and thanks, I think. You’ve got this, so I’ll be on my way. See you around.” Cullen nodded toward the others and turned to leave._

_“What about your fees?” Bull asked._

_Cullen walked out of the forest and called back over his shoulder. “This one’s free. If we meet again, you buy the first round.”_

_Bull laughed and yelled back to Cullen. “I like the way you think, Witcher! It’s a deal!”_

 

Haven woke early while the Witcher rested. During the night, a messenger arrived bearing the colors of Gereon Alexius and demanded a meeting with the Herald of Andraste. Dorian stood in the war room facing the advisors. Leliana had a way in for a small group of soldiers, Dorian would accompany the Lady and all was ready save one detail.

“No. I forbid it. The Witcher is not going with the party. It’s too dangerous.” Commander Rylen had tried repeatedly to remove Cullen from Haven but orders direct from Cassandra now prevented him from taking any action against the Witcher. “He has bewitched all of you and seeks to destroy us from within!”

Dorian grew tired of the constant tirade against Cullen. “I think I’ve had enough. Dorian pulled out a parchment and slammed his fist against the table. I believe your spymaster can authenticate this document, she has Alexius’ journal after all.”

Leliana hid a smile. “It seems I need to watch my scouts a little closer, isn’t that right Dorian?”

Rylen threw out his fist to the right cutting through the air. “Enough of this, he should be cast out of Haven.”

Dorian grinned. “Cast out? You and your precious Order did that to him years ago. Ser Cullen Rutherford of Honnleath went missing after a training mission. He was eighteen years old, _eighteen_! The Order did nothing to find him. What comfort did the Order give his family? Nothing, I’d wager.”

Cassandra stepped forward. “Dorian, that is enough.”

“No, I am afraid it isn’t. He was taken by spies from Tevinter and brought to a magister to create a new breed of Witcher. Magister _Gereon Alexius_.” The looks from the advisors and the audible gasp from Yennelyn spurred Dorian to continue. “There is only one person who should guard the Lady on this mission and it is Cullen. Alexius will not be prepared for him. Cullen knows how to navigate the time magic; he is a product of it.”

Rylen turned to the spymaster. “Is this true, this Cullen was a Templar?”

Leliana stared at Cassandra. The choice to keep this information from the Commander of the Armies had been by Cassandra’s order. “Yes. After his disappearance Cullen surfaced in Ferelden at the Circle Tower. He aided King Alistair and fought by his side during the Fifth Blight. He is under the protection of Ferelden’s King and the Empress and now he fights for the Inquisition.”

Yennelyn needed the best to get her in and out of the castle. “Commander, Cullen will accompany me to Redcliffe Castle.”

The Commander shook his head and leaned on the war table. “You can’t. You simply do not understand the importance of this mission.”

Dorian watched as a familiar fire lit in Yennelyn’s face. No one ever told Yennelyn Trevelyan she could not do something, it simply wasn’t done. “Never presume that I am incapable of grasping the seriousness of our missions, Commander. You are putting my neck in Alexius’ grasp. I will choose who will escort me to this meeting, are we clear? I grow tired of your constant need to handle me like a child. Lady Cassandra, you, Dorian and Cullen will join me and Leliana, have your people in place as well. Josephine, perhaps King Alistair would be kind enough to offer some assistance? Make that happen if you would? We should leave in . . . two days. Will that be sufficient time to coordinate all those concerned?”

Leliana inclined her head. ”Yes, I will see it done, my Lady.” Josephine agreed - she knew Leliana could reach the king faster than her normal methods.   

The war room emptied in silence and Cassandra followed Dorian out into the morning air. Rylen waited for Yennelyn near the main doors. “I thought you did not trust this Cullen.” Rylen said. He placed his hand around her arm and gently guided her outside.

“I don’t, not entirely, I don’t understand why I feel the way I do. Perhaps once my memory returns, I’ll understand. I apologize for my harshness. I know you are trying to protect me.” Yennelyn blushed.

Rylen took her hand in his and lightly brushed his lips against her hand. “I took no offense, my Lady.”

Varric watched the display from his position near the blacksmith. “Shit. This will not end well.” He was already on his way to Cullen’s cabin when he stumbled on the little scene. Hawke sent another letter to Varric concerned she had not heard from Cullen. He realized Cullen never read the first letter and so he hurried along the path to reach Cullen before anyone else. Cassandra was beating the crap out of training post and Rylen and Yennelyn were strolling towards the training field. Anyone else Varric could talk his way around if he was stopped.

The raised voices coming from inside the cabin told Varric he wasn’t the only one delivering bad news. Varric opened the door slowly to Cullen and Dorian discussing Alexius.

Dorian wandered about as he talked. Cullen’s large frame rested against the wall shaking his head. “Cullen, just listen to me. You must go with her through the front gate. Alexius will not be prepared to see you; he will not move to grab Yen with you there! You can see the time distortions! Why must you be so stubborn?”

Cullen did not want to tip his hand. “Dorian, it makes more sense for me to sneak inside, I’ll use the mill entrance. Alistair told me about it years ago. If Leliana is contacting the King, he’ll assume I’ll use the entrance. It makes sense. Alexius is in over his head with the Venatori. That’s what you said.”  

That Alexius would try to hurt Yen to gain favor with the Venatori made little sense. If the Venatori were after another resting place of an ancient magister or even if they thought they found an Archdemon, the number of darkspawn the Venatori would have to overpower was impossible. “I’ve faced the Venatori, Dorian. There is no possible way the cultists have found a magister or an Archdemon, I’d know. The Breach is a hole in the Fade. If we rid Redcliffe of Alexius and if the Inquisition allies with the mages, the Breach will close and I can move on.”

Dorian knew Cullen would hide within the plans instead of talk freely. “What of Yennelyn? Do you walk away from her as well?”

Varric knew now was the time. “You might consider that Rylen has taken a personal interest in her well-being.”

Cullen scoffed. “The two of you know by now how I feel. She is better off away from me.” Cullen closed his eyes and thought about Yen. _If she’s happy with Rylen, so be it._ “I’ll get her out of Redcliffe and then go in search of our friend, Varric.” Cullen looked at his friends. “If you’re looking for reassuring hugs, look to each other and do so outside. I’m expecting Cassandra soon to review the events in Kirkwall.”

Varric raised his hands. “I’m not sticking around for the Seeker to show up. She hates me as it is. Do me a favor Curly – at least try to lie a little. I break easily.” Varric laughed as he left the cabin.

Dorian didn’t move. “Cullen, I. . .” He smiled as a strong grip shook his shoulder.

“Yes, we’re still friends but no I will not hug you. Witcher thing, you understand. Plus I can’t really trust that you won’t grab my ass.” Cullen smiled and laughed.

“Cheeky bastard.” Dorian sighed. “Trust me on Redcliffe, Cullen. Please don’t argue with me, take the front door and I promise I’ll be there with you.”

He steered Dorian towards the door. “Fine, we’ll do this your way for once. But if it all goes tits up, you’re buying as long as I hang around. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, we have a deal and just so you know, Cullen, I would not grab your ass. There’s nothing to grab onto as it is. You should eat - give us something to hang onto.” Dorian laughed and continued out the door.

___________________________________________

_9:35 Dragon, Kirkwall_

_Kirkwall was a mess; Alistair had not lied. He climbed the steps to Templar Hall hoping to find either Serah Hawke or Captain Aveline. Those were Alistair’s best guesses for a way into the city. Cullen would try the Hanged Man next as Alistair mentioned Varric Tethras had a residence in the tavern and was a known associate. He carried a letter of introduction from Alistair. Cullen had his doubts a city like Kirkwall needed his help but Alistair insisted._

_Cullen presented his letter to the Viscount’s Seneschal, Bran and was promptly sent to the Guard Captain, Aveline Vallen. Cullen hated playing errand boy; he preferred taking his contracts as needed. Cullen knocked on the Captain Vallen’s door. He heard a woman’s voice tell him to enter._

_“Well, what is it?” Aveline looked up to find a tall cloaked man in her office. She looked at her office companion in confusion. “Have you no manners? Remove your hood, Messere, common decency suggests so.”_

_Cullen exhaled and removed his hood. His white hair and feral eyes startled the hardened Guard Captain._

_“Maker take you, what are you?” Aveline exclaimed. Her companion stood and approached._

_“Aveline, I believe this is the aid I spoke of just a few moments ago. You are Messere Rutherford sent by King Alistair?”_

_Cullen bowed slightly. “I prefer Cullen. You must be Marion Hawke and Captain Vallen, a pleasure to meet you both. I would have arrived sooner, but King Alistair sent me on another errand.”_

_Hawke offered her hand and Cullen took it. “Oh, you’re warm.” She said without thinking._

_Cullen smiled. “I’m a Witcher, not a ghost. I’ll need a recommendation for lodging and time to be briefed on what you need from me.”_

_Aveline looked at Hawke but spoke to Cullen. “Any experience with possessions?”_

_“Aveline.” Hawke’s tone let Cullen know this was sensitive subject._

_“Let the Witcher help, Hawke. That’s all I am suggesting.” He watched the struggle play out before him and thought it best to stay silent._

_Hawke grabbed Cullen’s arm and led him out. “Not now Aveline. Tell me, do you have any issues with elves? A friend of mine has a . . . a house of sorts. It’s not much. I could have you stay with me, but a mage – it’s not important. Fenris is a touch moody, but you aren’t expected to watch over him it’s just a place to stay. Will that be all right? I could arrange a room at the Hanged Man if you prefer?”_

_Cullen stopped. “Serrah Hawke. The house is fine. I will not trouble the elf. If my presence here is a problem, I can return to Orlais.”_

_Hawke’s shoulder’s dropped. “No, please. King Alistair would not have sent you if you could not help Kirkwall. It’s all very tense here. Knight Commander Meredith, the Grand Enchanter, it’s a mess. Just call me Hawke.”_

Cassandra rubbed her eyes. “I know this part Cullen. What happened to Knight Commander Meredith and the Grand Enchanter? Was it part of this Ander’s plan to corrupt both of them before he blew up the Chantry?”

Cullen could not share what truly happened in Kirkwall. He knew the memories would find him soon enough. _Yennelyn. The red lyrium answered her._ “Varric’s account of what happened to Orsino is the truth, Lady Cassandra, I was there. Anders had disappeared from Kirkwall before the final battle began. I assure you, the contract on finding the party responsible for the destruction of the Chantry is still active. I will find him and see he is dealt with appropriately.”

“You would seek Anders knowing he is Hawke’s friend? Who claims this contract?” Cassandra asked. She had no reason to believe Cullen hid the truth.

“I can’t tell you who holds the contract. Contracts are secret bond between patron and Witcher. I _will_ find the party responsible.”

Cullen’s firm gaze left no doubt in Cassandra’s mind. “Perhaps I should ask you to find Marion Hawke. For now, we should focus on the mission to Redcliffe.”   

Cassandra left Cullen gazing into the fire for hours. _No emotions. A Witcher has no emotions. To hunt the demons and nightmares you become one of them._

_A young boy of eight sits on a dock reading a book. Children gather around him laughing, teasing playfully. The older boy tries to push the younger into the water. His siblings sit all around him, laughing and playing children’s games._

Cullen pushes the images from his mind. “I have no family. The lake is mine.” Cullen knows the memory that is to come. Kirkwall and Yennelyn. The images flow and he can only sit and wait. 

9:36 Dragon

_“Witcher!” A voice hisses in the shadows of his room. “Cullen!”  There is no time needed for his eyes to adjust, he is awake and alert. “There is a female mage inside. She wanders about searching the rooms.”_

_Cullen stands and reaches out to see the magic for himself. Tendrils of purple and red tinged in black swirl in patters of controlled spirals. He groans. “It’s Yennelyn. Go back to sleep, Fenris. I’ll take care of this.”_

_He walks into the foyer and sees her cloaked. “You change your mind, Yen? Tormenting Orlesian nobles without me covering your ass no fun anymore?”_

_She flips her hood down revealing herself. “Cullen. I didn’t come to Kirkwall to argue with you.”_

_“Why not, Yen? It’s what we do well.” He sighs. “I will not do whatever this is again. Go home, Yen. Pick one. Ostwick, Minrathous I don’t care. I’ve been here for almost two years, Yen. I think we’ve established you are fine without me.”_

_Yennelyn’s eyes pierce his from across the room. “Is that hurt in your voice Cullen? You left me in Orlais, remember?”_

_His hands balled into fists as he turns away. “Not this time Yen. What do you want?”_

_“Nothing much Cullen, Kirkwall in my hands for the Imperium.” She smiles and waits for the reaction her words will incite in him._

_She gasps as he glides down the stairs and grabs her shoulders. “Don’t lie to me. Daddy does not want you back, Yen. He wants your head. Care to try for lie number two?”_

_She lets her cloak fall. Her voice is soft as she speaks to him. “I miss you. We’re supposed to be together here in Kirkwall. I’ll go with you anywhere you want to go; Rivain, Denerim, Seheron. You pick the place and I’ll be next to you. You said you’d follow me anywhere.”_

_He looks at her. Cullen wants to believe but he can’t. He pulls her gently into his arms and kisses her forehead. “That time has passed. This is my purpose. This is where I am needed.”_

Cullen heard the knock on his cabin door and pulled himself out of his memory. 

Yennelyn’s voice drifted through the door. “Cullen? Are you awake?”

Cullen pulled on a tunic and cracked the door to speak with her. He reminded himself that the woman before him was not the same in his dream.  “My Lady? Is there a problem?”

Yennelyn did not look in his eyes. “Bull suggested I ask you to join us in the tavern. Varric thought if I asked you, perhaps you would not decline.  Would you like to join us?”

Cullen smiled and shook his head. _I’ll get them back for this._ “A moment, let me dress and I’ll meet you outside.” He moved into the bedroom around the corner and took off the tunic in favor of a clean garment. He wheeled around when he heard her gasp.

“What happened to you? Who did this to your back?” Yennelyn asked.

 _The scars. She doesn’t remember them._ “Your Commander Rylen would not like you standing in my room like this, my Lady.” He pulled the tunic on and tucked it into his trousers. She had not moved. “What would your Templar think?” Cullen teased.

“You did not answer my question. Who scarred you?” Yennelyn asked again. He could see she expected to hear of torture or capture.

“A dragon’s claws on my back in the Wastes. The dragon still lives. My companion at the time overestimated the beast, and I pulled us out in time, but not before the dragon left me a reminder. I should remind the lady that discussing my scars is not appropriate unless the lady has taken an interest.”  Cullen smirked and left her standing as he walked outside.

Yennelyn followed him out onto the path. “Taken an interest?” She hurried to catch his long strides. “I’m talking to you, Cullen!” He halted and turned to face her. Yennelyn slipped and bumped into him.

“I’ve got you.” Cullen smiled and held her for a moment. She looked into his face and shivered. “Perhaps I should walk you to your quarters instead of the tavern, my Lady?”

“Yes. That would be best, Cullen. Thank you.” Yennelyn did not let go. “Who are you?”

“A friend.” Cullen took her arm and guided her on the path back to her quarters. He did not hide his smile as she stole glances as they walked. When he arrived at her door, Cullen opened it and waited for her to enter. “Thank you for delivering the invitation. Here is where I must say good night. Unless there is something else you need, my Lady?”

“Who are you _to me_ , Cullen?" Yennelyn asked.

Cullen leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “A friend.” A shudder moved through her and as he pulled away from her he smiled. “Good night, my Lady.”

Through her closed door she heard him laugh as he left towards the tavern.

____________________________

_He hated sand. Cullen could handle the dampness of the Hinterlands, the Emerald Graves and Storm Coast - at least those areas were alive. The Anderfels and the Wastelands Cullen often tried to avoid, but this is where his latest headache ran off to even after repeated warnings not to go alone._

_A High Dragon. Alone. She’d lost her fucking mind this time. Cullen did not have enough information on the dragon to safely face it and Yennelyn was somewhere in the Hissing Wastes._

_“This is your fault you know. She asked you to go with her and you laughed.” Cullen spoke to no one, it was easier to chastise himself aloud.  If he had a Griffon, maybe he could hold the dragon long enough but there was one remaining hatchery in all of Thedas and not only was it secret but if any hatchlings survived he’d have to wade through Grey Wardens. It was too far away to concern himself with at this point in the journey. He tried to reach out to find her magic._

_Cullen couldn’t stop long enough to search for Yen. Between the Wyverns and the Lurkers Cullen was covered in blood and gore as he cut through the Wastes. The Varghests were nasty creatures. Not only were they a distant relative of the Wyverns and High Dragons, but these beasts preferred to drag their pray back alive before devouring it. Their hide was not too tough to cut through with a proper sword, but the claws could slice through most lightweight armor._

_Cullen had been attacked multiple times as he searched the sands. Out of all the beasts in the Hissing Wastes, Cullen despised the poison spiders more than any other. The spiders in the Wastes not only bred prolifically in the oasis areas of the sands, but they could survive outside of the oasis. The spit attack of a poison spider could weaken the strongest fighter and turn the battle in favor of these pack creatures._

_“I hate spiders. Thedas is infested with spiders that defy explanation and this is where she runs to prove she is battle ready?” Cullen had to find Yen soon. He was barely making it through battle to battle. The Hissing Wastes were not meant to be attempted alone._

_Cullen froze as the roar carried on the wind. He had the direction of the dragon. Cullen felt the first wave of magic pull at him. “Yennelyn!” Cullen sprinted as best he could in the shifting sands. “Maker just watch over her a little longer, then I will not ask again.” Cullen rarely called on the Maker any more, he tried to bury that part of him as best he could. But here, in this desolation he hoped his plea was heard._

_A high ridge of sand loomed in front of him. The second roar confirmed Cullen’s fears. She found the dragon. A blast of red and orange lit the night and Cullen stopped._ Fire dragon. Damn. Yen’s ice magic is weak.

 _Cullen picked up speed despite the pain in his legs. He crested the ridge to a terrible sight.  Yennelyn was hiding behind a pillar gulping for air. He watched as she drank a potion from her pack. His first priority was to distract the dragon. “_ I know this beast, the Howler. This is its hunting time. Great.” _Cullen slid down the ridge and rolled to close the distance. Igni would not damage the beast but it might draw his attention._

_He fired sign after sign to draw the Howler’s attention.  Yennelyn could not see as he could in the dark, but she no doubt knew he was drawing the Howler away from her._

_The dragon advanced and shook the ground with each thunderous step. Cullen hid behind a pillar; this area was littered with stone pillars all part of an ancient ruin. The pillars could provide some cover; his goal was not to battle the beast but to distract it long enough for Yen to move out of danger._

_“Cullen, don’t be foolish! We can beat the dragon together!” Yennelyn yelled. Her voice would have been lost on the winds but Cullen could hear her without issue.  He had to time his moves just right. Yrden would not work with the dragon, it was too big.  He needed a distraction._

_Cullen heard Yennelyn cry out and time seemed to stop. She’d run straight at the Howler arms raised. He sprinted to her position but was too late. A single swipe of his powerful front leg and Yennelyn crumpled to a heap. “No!” Cullen covered her as the dragon’s clawed front leg tried to swipe at both of them._

_The Quen sign drawn too late, Cullen felt skin tear and the burn of muscle and tendon ripped in his back. He cried out as his vision clouded in the intense anguish of his injury. Cullen continued to move several steps forward and cast his shield sign. The excruciating burn of lacerated flesh and muscle threatened to bring his escape to an end. The gashes in his skin and the forced movement pumped the blood faster from his body. He had minutes before he would lose consciousness and more importantly, lose Yennelyn._

_Cullen’s pain addled mind cleared. The draconid oil might slow the Howler. He needed just a minute more to pull them both to the safety of one pillar. It was formulated for Wyverns to weaken them in battle, but the dragon was a distant relative; Cullen had to try. The small vial of oil might only irritate the Howler, but Cullen was out of options. He gripped the vial tight and hurled it at the dragon.   The roar that followed told Cullen he hit the beast. Cullen picked up Yennelyn’s battered body and screamed in agony as the flesh on his back tore from his exertion. Panting through his pain he carried Yen to the safety of the pillar._  
  
_______

Cullen was surprised he’d made it to the tavern even though he’d been lost to his thoughts. Yennelyn survived but blamed herself for the deep white scars that crossed his back. _She has no memory of the pain inflicted on me by her actions. Perhaps that’s why I delight in teasing her so much_. _Although I should stop messing with her. She will be pissed when she remembers._ “If she ever remembers.” Cullen could hear the boisterous laughter of Bull, Varric and Dorian. “Those three should be kept apart.” Cullen said to the night air. He pushed open the door to see the three who had only met through the Inquisition carrying on as though old friends.

“Nice of you join us, Cullen.” Bull stood and clapped Cullen on the shoulder. “Don’t tell me you frightened the lady away.”

Cullen sat next to Varric. “She decided the excitement was too much.”

Dorian and Varric looked at him and laughed. “You did that thing where you whisper to her and she can’t talk, didn’t you?” Varric asked. “I have to master that trick. It’s brilliant.”

“Strictly amateur!” Dorian started. “Have you ever seen them look across the room at each other? If you’re caught in the middle of it, you feel like you need a bath. It’s positively shameful.”

Cullen stared ahead unmoved.

“What are they talking about Cullen are you and the lady together?” Bull asked.

Cullen shook his head. “I do not understand what they are talking about. Adolescent fantasies, I think.”

Bull leaned back in his chair. “I almost believe you. Almost. See, you know my information is good and what I know of you and the lady could fill more than a few books. So let’s try this again.”

“Ancient history, Bull. I believe the lady spends her free time with Commander Rylen. Perhaps you might try him for the latest gossip.”

The door to the tavern slammed into the wall. No one stood at the door. Dorian watched as Cullen’s pupils focused far into the night. He stood and crossed to the door. “Storm’s coming.” Cullen stepped outside and took in all he could.

Dorian said nothing to Bull and Varric but followed Cullen out the door. “Cullen?” Dorian knew it was not the weather Cullen referred to in the tavern and stood beside him. “Did they truly find something?” Dorian referred to the Venatori. Their goal was to restore Tevinter to its position of power, but to achieve their victory an unknown entity named _The Elder One_ would rise to power. Neither Dorian nor Cullen had ever found evidence of this entity and therefore it was assumed the Venatori were just a group of mad cultists.

“After Alexius, I need to find out. I’ll stay a little longer, Dorian. I must ask you to look after Yen.”  Cullen said staring out into the woods.

“I cannot imagine they found anything, Cullen. If this is true. . .” Dorian’s voice trailed off.

“Change of plans, Dorian. I’m still going will you tomorrow to Redcliffe, but take Varric with you. I’ll go in the front door, but stay back. I feel this will be an ambush. You’ll need me out of sight.” Cullen turned to his friend.  “Do I even have to say it?”

Dorian chuckled. “No. Don’t bother. You know I will.”

A quick pat on the shoulder and Cullen was gone, back to the path towards his cabin. In a few short hours they would be on the way to Redcliffe Castle. It was time for Cullen to take back what was lost.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to hear from you! Tell me what works, what doesn't!


	6. Fractured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has an opportunity to confront Alexius in Redcliffe Castle as the Inquisition discusses an alliance with the mages. What follows is a path that pulls his past and his future together in the name of an enemy he thought he vanquished.

Alexius paced in Redcliffe’s receiving hall. “You, my dear Yennelyn are nothing but a thief and a mistake; a stolen mark, a stolen life and you _stole_ my creation.”

Yennelyn did not react to the accusations hurled by the magister.

Alexius scoffed. “I can see you don’t have the faintest idea how you corrupted his purpose and turned him against me.”

A figure stood unsentimental in the shadows. _No Alexius._ _You corrupted my purpose_ w _hen you took my life away from me,_ Cullen thought.

Dorian stepped forward. “Now who is the spoiled child among us? There stands the nefarious sovereign ready to crush his enemies with foul words. Yennelyn did not betray you. _I did_. I armed Cullen with everything he would need to work against you and any who sought his _alteration_ and then I freed him.” Dorian stared in defiance at his former mentor. “You tortured an unwilling subject Alexius, you used untested methods on an honorable man. It was your arrogance and ambition that cost you everything.”

He prowled the shadows waiting for his chance. Alexius would die. Cullen lurked out of sight listening to Alexius speak of plans of the Elder One. He understood the root of the matter. Alexius had joined the Venatori as Dorian feared.

The soundless movements of the Inquisition caught his eye as they moved closer to the waiting Venatori guards. Soldiers dropped one Venatori guard after the other -  a dagger here, a snapped neck there. The Inquisition soldiers hung back as the conversation with Alexius and Yennelyn continued.

Cullen emerged from his concealment and stood several yards behind Yennelyn and Dorian. He drew his sword and the discordant sound of steel drawn against the steel ring of his harness echoed through the receiving hall. Alexius stopped his motion, amulet in hand and stared at the lone figure as he revealed the face beneath the hood. Alexius stumbled back against the tall chair.

Cullen spoke; quiet and reserved but with no less strength. “Whatever you plan to do Alexius, know this: if I live through the next few moments, I assure you those same moments will be your last.” 

Dorian watched Alexius lift the amulet again in his hand. His hand shook. Cullen realized too late what was happening around them as he felt the pull of time magic fill the room. “Alexius, stop! Dorian fall back, fall back now!  Yen!”  

A violent spinning mass of time opened before Yennelyn and Dorian. She turned to face Cullen eyes wide in terror. He reached out  to her and a silent scream was ripped from her lips as the vortex engulfed her.

Cullen charged Alexis and lifted him by the neck. His nostrils flared and savage eyes blazed. “Bring her back.”

Cullen released his grip and Alexius fell to the floor laughing. “You failed. The Elder One shall win. Join me, Cullen. The Herald of Andraste and Dorian are gone. Join me now.”

Cullen did not understand. “What have you done? Why am I still here?”

Alexius stood. “Because you are part of the plan, Cullen. The Elder One will spare you if you serve Him. Time is rewritten. There is no Herald. No Inquisition. The time of the Elder One approaches.”

Alexius grinned as Cullen sheathed his sword. “You’ll see Cullen. Your loyalty will be rewarded.”

“Reward? Is that what you seek? Alexius, you should have sent me through the time vortex. I will stop the Elder One. You may deliver my message.” Cullen spun around and hurried out the main doors. He heard Alexius call after him even as he slammed the doors behind him.

Once outside, Cullen bent over and tried to breathe. _She’s not gone. Yennelyn is not gone._ Shade wandered alone. None of the horses or those that traveled with them waited. Cullen seated himself on Shade. “The Inquisition is gone. Then Yennelyn is . . . Maker, no.” Cullen inhaled sharply and exhaled through shaking breaths. Cullen turned Shade towards Denerim. “Let’s go, Shade. The world ends if we fail.”

Horse and rider left with all speed and Cullen cursed his human heart as tears fell. Cullen knew one truth. He would meet Yennelyn in the Fade before he allowed this Elder One to rule.  
  
_______

_The morning sun in Rivain warmed his back as he woke. She slept near him but the distance between them made him anxious. Cullen slid across the space between them and wrapped himself around her._

_Yennelyn sighed as she spoke. “Good morning.” She leaned her head back against his chest._

_Cullen relaxed as she settled against him. “Hmmm. Morning.” His breathing slowed as contentment asserted its hold over them._

_Cullen smiled as he realized what he’d felt when they kissed and throughout the night was not imagined. Every part of his skin that touched hers a current passed between them. The pulse was more than lifeblood, more than their hearts. They recognized each other from across a crowded dock to a simple touch of skin to skin. Cullen did not believe in love. He knew no woman could love a monster. His life would never be normal. Yennelyn sighed again, and he hugged her body to him._  
  
_______

As he neared Denerim’s gates his tears fell. She was gone, but he would save Thedas for her. To do so, he would need the strength of all Ferelden behind him.

Shade stopped just south of the gated and refused to move. “I’m fine, Shade. Let’s go.” Shade did not budge. “All right. I’m not fine. Happy? Right now the people will suffer if we do not continue. My emotions are not important. We must get inside the gates and I need a plan to stand against the Elder One. I swear I will leave you here for the demons and Maker knows what else if you do not move.” Cullen’s anger swept his sorrow away.

Cullen could not enter the city. He pounded the hilt of his sword against the gate. “I am Cullen Rutherford, emissary of King Alistair and Queen Solona!  Open the gate!” Cullen heard movements inside and shouting on the other side moving away from his position. _A messenger sent to the king?_

Shade backed away from Cullen and the gate. “You feel something, Shade?”  Cullen knew Shade was reacting to some unseen energy. “Do not open the gate! Something comes on this side!” Cullen drew his sword and prepared blindly the threat still unknown.

He tightened his grip as the Veil ruptured and two creatures emerged from a Rift. Clad in ancient armor, each held a massive broadsword. “Revenants.” Cullen sneered. Warriors of the dead, Revenants were deadly foes. Most underestimated this possessed creature but Cullen would need his speed and strength to live through the battle.

In a normal fight he would not try four potions at once, but his survival would require the risk. Thunderbolt potion to enhance his strength, Blizzard to enhance his reflexes, Tawny Owl to regenerate his stamina and Swallow, the most commonly used potion to enhance his vitality regeneration. The problem: these were all poisons of one sort or another and he would need to win the fight quickly to clear the toxins from his body before they claimed him.

_Revenants should not travel through the Fade Rifts. The demons are unbound, who would release them to wander?_

Cullen’s thoughts were cut short as the first Revenant floated towards him and stretched out his weapon. He tucked and rolled to the right as a forced whoosh of air rushed near him. If the ethereal blade touched him the Revenant would pull Cullen onto the broadsword.

Revenants were slow to move and Cullen used this to his advantage. He circled right then left as he lured the Revenant into the Yrden sign’s trap he laid in front of him. Cullen hacked the creature on the left and twirled his body right to dodge the broadsword and swung left to connect again. He drew the sign again holding the creature briefly as he weakened it with opposite sweeps of his sword left then right until a final slice sent the helmet and head of the undead warrior flying out across the field.  The armor collapsed to the grass and Cullen watched as the Rift energy claimed his enemy. 

 _No time to rest._ Cullen could feel the toxins winning out over the potion’s effects. Cullen heard footfalls of approaching humans behind him.

“Take the horse inside and ready the healers!” A man’s voice yelled.

Cullen backed away from the second Revenant to glance back at the newcomers.

Alistair and Solona raced towards him with several knights close at their heels.

“No! Get back!” Cullen held out his left hand and suddenly pitched back and swayed forward. He lost control of his body as it soared towards the waiting Revenant. “Dammit.”  Cullen grunted as the broadsword punctured his flesh above his waist. Solona screamed as he felt the blade withdraw and he sank to his knees on the grass.

He pushed himself to stand and cast another Yrden sign to slow the Revenant as his companions from years past fought against the Revenant until it followed the other.

Cullen winced as Alistair and Solona lifted him. “I need . . . white vial.” He worried the poisons were almost through with him. He reached for the vial of White Honey potion and hoped its cleansing effect would be strong enough as Solona tried to augment his waning energy with her magic. “It’s not working Sol, I’ll be healed once I’ve had a moment to rest, thanks.” Cullen guessed the potions were preventing the healing magic from helping his body recover.

“Ali, we should get him inside now before we have any more guests.”  Solona cautioned.

Alistair nodded. “Come on, old man. Where in the Void have you been?”

Solona chided him again. “Ali, now is not the time- get him inside.”

Cullen muttered as Alistair hoisted him up. “What was that, Cullen?”

“Old man, huh? You know I can stand on my own just fine, Alistair. Unless you prefer to carry me inside,  only . . . watch those wandering hands of yours, please.” Cullen looked to his right at  Solona and winked.

She held her lips together to hold her laughter as Alistair released Cullen’s arm and shoulder from his. “Sol, he’s fine.  Cullen, we can’t linger, are you able to run?”

Cullen looked on his friend and realized he was serious. “Let’s go then. Why were the gates locked? When did the Rifts just appear from nothing?”

Alistair touched Cullen’s shoulder. “Cullen, you’ve been missing for almost a year. We thought . . . we thought you were gone with the others.“  Alistair gestured towards the gates and both men hurried towards the waiting knights.

______________________

“Cullen, we’re both disheartened at the losses suffered.”  Solona glanced at Alistair several times as she spoke to Cullen while he slouched in a chair in Alistair’s study. “We tried three times to take back Redcliffe. The first battle we underestimated their numbers. The village was destroyed. Commander Rylen was lost in the first siege, he refused to retreat.”

Cullen breathed deep and rolled his neck as he growled. “I need to go back - now. This _Elder One_ Alexius spoke of – what do you know?”

“We know that the surrounding countryside is overrun with Rifts. Most appear at random. The demons are no longer bound to the Fade, Cullen; they wander freely everywhere, not just those weakened points in the Veil.  Orlais fell several months ago, after our last attempt to take the castle.” Alistair picked up various folders with parchments haphazardly stuffed inside. “The Elder One is expected to take Ferelden soon. Leliana confirmed that much.” Alistair dropped the papers on his desk.

He sat up at the mention of the spymaster. “Where is she, I’ll need her help.”

Solona looked into the fire place. “Cullen, she was captured during the second siege. The Inquisition is . . . was . . . I am sorry.”

Cullen looked down at his feet and nodded. “I’m going back.”

Alistair hurried behind his desk. “Give me five days to gather the Wardens. I should be able to give you perhaps fifty to help; plus you will have the twenty knights that remained here. Sol, see if the mages in Denerim will aid Cullen and have word sent for any who might wish to try one final time. It’s the best I can do, my friend.” Alistair pushed away from his desk and joined Cullen where he stood. “I will join you.”

“No, Alistair.” Cullen watched Solona staring into the fire. “Your duty is here.”

Alistair argued. “Don’t do this alone.“

Cullen roared as he picked Alistair up and slammed him against the wall.  Alistair had never seen the monster behind the face of his friend – until now. Cullen seethed and his mad glare tore through Alistair. “Listen to me, Alistair.” The king swallowed hard. “You will not follow, you will not leave and you will not search for me. We have a contract. If you defy me now I will drop you where you stand. I would rather take you from her right now than see these creatures touch you or Solona. I promise you, this ends with me.”

Solona did not fear Cullen. She knew he wanted to stop Alistair from riding out into an unwinnable battle.  He eased Alistair down to his feet and stalked into the hall. Years ago, Cullen promised Alistair a happy ending. Cullen felt his chest clench and the tears threaten a return as he overheard Solona explain. “He loved her, Ali, that’s why.”

______________________________

Cullen did not want to take Shade back to Redcliffe, but the horse followed him and pushed his shoulder until he had no choice but to give in. “Fine, I’m trying to save you too, you know.”

Time would speed and slow in front of him as he traveled back to Redcliffe. He could not determine why the time distortions disturbed him. These distortions were common when he was training with Dorian. He adjusted his armor and his fingers grazed the chain of his medallion.  Cullen dismounted and cautiously stepped towards the time field.

“The medallion should hum. It hasn’t.” _The Rift,_ _the Revenants, Solona’s magic, the distortions. The medallion does not weaken or fail. A year has passed._ He thought. _I couldn’t lose a year on the road to Denerim._ “This is a time schism.” Cullen realized.  
  
\--------

_The courtyard offered Dorian the privacy required to train Cullen. Fighters from the Proving Grounds filed in regularly to fight Cullen to improve his combat skills. The week long absence of Alexius afforded Dorian precious time to educate Cullen how to detect and differentiate the types of magic._

_Cullen grew bored with the magic lessons; the combat techniques and tactics were more to his liking now that a steady stream of sparring partners insisted on a chance to defeat Cullen. The fights often ended with a request for Cullen to join the fighters at the Proving Grounds but Alexius always refused._

_“You’re not listening, Cullen.” Dorian complained. “This should interest you. Time magic is as much a part of you as those silly swords you put your trust in – far too much.”_

_“Dorian, I know about time magic. We’ve been through this and it is a waste of time. You are unable to sustain the time field for more than a few minutes. There is no danger. I know how it feels and I can navigate through the distortions. What I need is more time with real dangers, not the pet Wyvern or a few loose pigs. Why can’t you bring something more challenging – a wild Wyvern perhaps?”_

_Dorian glared. “No I cannot bring you a Wyvern or any other creature for you to battle in secret. Teleportation is not possible; it is forbidden magic. You know what happens to mages when they attempt or use such discipline.” Cullen remembered the mage who was executed when his magic was discovered, the news had spread throughout Tevinter._

_“I wasn’t suggesting you do anything of the sort.“  Cullen sighed. “Dorian, if you can’t stabilize magic it breaks down and falls apart, right? My signs work if the gesture is used. If I do not use the small gesture, it fails. If you do not prime your focus your magic loses intensity.” Cullen waited a moment for Dorian to interrupt or correct him. When Dorian did not speak, Cullen continued. “Templar abilities disrupt a mage’s focus, or destroy the anchor of the magic in use. Time magic is unstable because it cannot anchor itself in the present. I think Alexius used me as the anchor in his laboratory because you need a fixed point to make it work.” He stared at the mage across from him. “Well, say something Dorian.”_

_A small breathless chuckle broke Dorian’s silence. He crossed his arms and shook his head his expression unreadable to Cullen.  When Dorian pitched forward and bent at the waist, Cullen assumed Dorian was in distress. He hopped down off the wall and attempted to close the distance between them until Dorian surprised him by laughing._

_“You summed up in minutes what takes most mages years to comprehend.” Dorian explained. “And here’s a little secret. Time magic is forbidden. There’s a dirty little secret I am surprised hasn’t been exploited yet. Alexius is the first to make it work this far. The real danger in dealing with time magic is unmaking time. What if I could go back and change the past? I risk creating a schism in time, two timelines run parallel that rely on a single event in the past. You could live a very different life if I went back and tried to stop your abduction.  If I succeeded the impact could be catastrophic. It’s best not to mess with time, Cullen. One could go quite mad trying to determine what is real and what is not.”_

_“Is it possible?” Cullen asked._

_Dorian tried to be sympathetic, but the truth was cruel. “It is possible; however a single concentrated point of focus needs to be sustained in both timelines. I know Alexius has nothing that could maintain the time portal. I’m sorry, Cullen.”_

 

_____________________  
  
“That’s it. This is not the proper timeline. Alexius used that large amulet and sent it into the vortex. Yennelyn is still alive and here with Dorian.  Redcliffe is the key, if I help Dorian and Yen return, this timeline ends. What I need to figure out is which path is mine. Here or there?”  
  
  


_She lies back on the chaise and raises her face to the sun. “You’re staring.”_

_His knee is pulled up, and he rests his head staring at her and smiling. “Is that a problem?” His smile widens as he sees a shiver move through her. “Does it bother you?”_

_Her eyes remain closed. “Bother is not a proper description of what I feel, Cullen.”_

_He inches closer and wraps his fingers around her ankle. His voice quieted for her ears only, he continues.  “Tell me what you feel.”_

  
“I hate Despair demons - I think I’m frozen to my smalls.” The last demon fallen, the Rift disappeared before him.  Cullen called Shade to his side and continued. “Sorry, my friend, it seems the return to Redcliffe is going to be difficult. Cullen seated himself when another Rift appeared to his left.  Cullen’s head dropped as the Wyvern stepped out and roared at him.  “You can’t be serious. If you can’t even play by the rules, I don’t care if I die. Wyverns cannot travel through the Fade. This is the splintered timeline. It has to be.”  _Doesn’t mean this little lizard isn’t real._

He charged and rolled to his left as the Wyvern’s teeth snapped at his head. The creature hissed and Cullen hacked down to his left and connected with the Wyvern’s back leg. He dodged the swipe of the Wyverns tail and set it aflame with Igni before he circled to the front.   The Yrden sign helped stall the Wyvern long enough for Cullen to slice on the left side to gut the beast. Cullen flanked the creature and stabbed through its neck. The gore and entrails covered his boots and legs.  
  
  


_“Give those back, please.” Cullen turned back towards Yen. The sly smile on her face answered his previous question of the whereabouts of his small clothes.  Cullen winked back at Yennelyn and chuckled as the flush bloomed on her cheeks.  “Close your eyes, Yen.”_

_He smiled as she closed her eyes. “I’ll fix this. Give me a moment.”_

_Cullen crept around her until he picked her up in his arms and nuzzled her neck. “How is this fixing anything, Cullen?”_

_He grazed her earlobe and kissed below her ear.  ”Oh believe me, it’s helping.”  Yennelyn sighed as Cullen worked the clasps on her dress_.

  
Cullen and Shade pushed through to reach Redcliffe. Cullen could not delay and tasked Shade to run through the gathering hordes to reach the castle gates He knew time was short and sent Shade around to the stables. He was ahead of the horde and had to trust the others would allow him entry.

_  
“Do you love me?” She asked, her eyes locked on her book._

_He closed his eyes as his head dropped with his shoulders. Cullen gripped the towel in his hands until his knuckles were white from the strain. “Yen, we’ve been through this before.”_

_She turned a page and another. “No, we have not. You avoid the question whenever I ask.”_

_Cullen pulled on his trousers and dropped onto the bed. “Stop asking. I’m here. What do you think?” His bare back faced her. Cullen heard her put the book on the table and slide across the sheets. She traced a delicate fingertip across the scars from the dragon and touched each deep groove with a kiss from her lips. “These were because of me.”_

_“You’ve apologized enough. I’d do it again, but promise me no more dragons alone.” He said, moving off the bed towards the tunic hung over a chair._

_“You didn’t answer my question, Cullen.” She saw the sigh even though he let no sound escape him._

_Cullen turned to face her. “Yen, you are . . .” Cullen knelt before her. “I will always find you when you need me. Listen to me carefully; I have cursed my eyes with the first breath of every morning since I first woke in Tevinter."_

_Cullen took a deep breath and continued. "One Summerday in Rivain she found me, and I lost her in a crowd. We saw each other again on a crowded dock and I’ve followed her ever since - always will.” He touched his lips to her forehead and stood pulling her with him. She whimpered as he crushed his lips to hers and he continued until her body relaxed against him. He tugged away and rubbed his forehead against hers. “See you.”_

  
  
A few Shades and Wraiths littered the paths, and he vanquished one after the other eyes fixed on the castle gates. Cullen was shocked to find them unsecured. He entered and slid the securing bars into place to gain more time to find Yen and Dorian. His medallion hummed so violently Cullen sheathed his blade and sprinted towards the magic pulsing through the castle. This was the first time he’d felt any magic in this timeline except his own. _Dorian must have the amulet in that room._ Cullen found a strange door he’d never seen in previous visits to Castle Redcliffe and pushed them open.

“Cullen!” Cassandra called out to him as the doors closed of their own volition. “We thought you were dead!”

He shook his head, eyes locked on Yen and Dorian. “Get in line, Lady Cassandra. I left Denerim to come back to fight. It seems King Alistair had the same impression of me. The Elder One and his army are approaching - what is the plan?”

Dorian had the amulet and was trying to prime it. “The plan, dear boy is to wake this trinket up and get us back to the proper time. I need more time to work the amulet.”

Cullen joined them on the steps. “Dorian, there are over several hundred nasty creatures and demons headed this way and they will not pause to admire the local scenery. This is a time schism and you have none left to play dress up. Both of you need to return – in short, work faster.” 

Yennelyn watched both men. “You are friends. I had not realized – I thought . . . it doesn’t matter.  Cullen, how do you know this isn’t the right timeline?”

Cullen was checking his armor, blades and potions. He would protect Dorian and Yen until he could not breathe. “My medallion hadn’t hummed once until I entered Redcliffe a few moments ago.”

Dorian stopped. “If your medallion didn’t work in this timeline, you have to return with us.”

Cullen pointed at the amulet and Dorian continued. A sinister sound echoed throughout the castle. “They’re here.” Cullen said as the slow rhythmic sound of creatures beating against the gates of the castle echoed through the halls.   “Do I have to ask, Dorian?”

Dorian closed his eyes for a moment as he continued to work on the amulet. “He’s not coming with us.” He muttered.

Yennelyn eyes widen at Dorian’s revelation. If they left Cullen behind what would happen to him?

Cullen hurried to Leliana’s side.  “We need to hold them off; I’ll guard Dorian and Yen. How do we proceed?” Cassandra and Varric decided they would head to the outer chamber and make their stand there. Leliana and Cullen would bar the doors and make sure to afford Dorian whatever he needed to return.

Leliana’s appearance shocked him. Her face gaunt, pulled tight in a mask of death, chilled him. “I’m sorry I was not here to protect any of you. When they come, stay behind me.” Cullen reached down towards his calf. He pulled out a dagger and flipped it, offering her the hilt. “Take it. When the arrows run out, use this or grab my other sword. No heroics, Lil.”

Leliana scoffed. “Cullen, call me Lil again and it will be my arrow or your dagger in you.” She inhaled. “Would you . . . perhaps a verse?”

Cullen chuckled. The shrieks and wails coming from the other side of the door only steeled Cullen’s resolve. His voice filled the chamber in one final verse.

 “I have faced armies with You as my shield!” Cullen braced as the door before them moved under the strain of many pushing against it. The resonance of stretching sinew caught his ear as Leliana readied her arrow.

He fought the urge to turn and look at Yennelyn. “I’ll see you in the Fade, Yen.” He whispered.

His voice continued the Chant loud and clear above the chaos on the other side. “And though I bear scars beyond counting, nothing can break me except your absence!”

The door burst inward sending demons and beast flooding into the room. Cullen growled and dashed forward as Leliana’s arrows found their targets beyond him. Cullen felled one enemy after the other as the sea of enemies continued to flow into the room.

Yennelyn watched in horror as Cullen gutted several Venatori. She stared as he continued,  covered in blood, to fight any creature that stepped in his path. Yennelyn screamed as a large blade entered his back. He fought on and he called back to them over the melee. “Dorian, any fucking time!”

Dorian did not look up as the vortex appeared. “Got it! Go, go now!”  

__________________

Cullen flashed into awareness and dropped Alexius to the floor when Yennelyn and Dorian emerged.  _Had only a minute passed?_ He reached around to his back. _No wound.  I’m not injured and not covered in blood._ He swung his head side to side checking his condition.

Dorian and Yennelyn looked on Cullen’s strange behavior and then at each other. Dorian wondered if Cullen knew about his injury and what took place in the other timeline. He stumbled as Cullen pushed his way to where Yennelyn stood.

Cullen hurried to face Yennelyn. The urge to hold her, touch her conflicted with his responsibility not to embarrass her in front of all gathered in the hall.  “I’m pleased you survived, forgive me. I worriedthat you were in danger.”  

Dorian smirked. “I’m splendid, thank you so much for asking, Cullen.”

Cullen moved away from the main hall into an alcove just as King Alistair and his soldiers arrived. He listened as Yennelyn and Fiona agreed to work together to seal the Breach.

King Alistair leaned against a pillar and grinned. “Why is it. . .whenever I ask for your help it all goes a little . . .what’s the word I’m looking for Cullen . . .to shit.” Alistair and Cullen laughed.

“I have no idea. It must be luck.” Cullen replied. “Nice outfit. It looks like leather and what a _cute_ little fur collar. You should not let Sol dress you before you go out, Alistair.” Alistair’s leather travelling armor was not his favorite. Cullen knew this and teased Alistair mercilessly about the clothes Solona insisted he wear as king.

“Ooh, sarcasm. There’s a switch. I have a spare you know; I could have the tailor take the legs up a bit so they won’t drag on the floor.” Alistair quipped. Cullen was only a few inches shorter than Alistair but the difference in height was a joyous source of teasing for Alistair.

“I’m good. It would be too snug. Not as flat in the inseam, Sol mentioned that once.” Cullen smirked.

Alistair huffed. “Hey! I am king in case you might have forgotten.”

Cullen bowed. “Forgive me. I will have to decline your offer. I’m not as flat in the inseam according to the Queen, your Majesty.” He threw his head back and laughed.

“Cullen, are you all right? You seem almost . . . happy and I have to say I prefer moody Cullen to this – you’re scaring me.” Alistair offered.

Cullen clapped his hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “I’m fine. I’ll get Haven situated and search for Hawke. Then I’ll find this Elder One.” Cullen winked and followed the Inquisition out of Redcliffe.

______________________

Cullen and Dorian rode side by side on the way back to Haven. Dorian tried to understand Cullen’s awareness in the alternate timeline. They talked at length. “Cullen, the amulet needs to be destroyed. Alexius will never share exactly what he did with you, but it is clear that his time magic still has control of you.”

The ride to Haven was not long and Cullen and Dorian continued their conversation until Yennelyn joined them. “The three of us should speak with the War Council together.” She started. “I believe you should share your experience, Cullen.” Dorian coughed.

“Yes, Cullen _do_ share your experience with all of us.” Dorian teased. Dorian generally knew of the intimate nature of the memories Cullen experienced in the alternate timeline.

“Another time, perhaps. Once you seal the Breach, King Alistair has another task for me. I will stay until the Breach is sealed.”  Cassandra shared the mages would arrive in three days for the attempt. He would travel to Orlais in search of Hawke as soon as possible.

Cullen patted Shade and directed the horse to slow and move off.

Yennelyn sighed. “He doesn’t like me very much does he. He dismisses me pushes me away every time I try to talk with him, Dorian.”

Dorian choked and coughed to cover up his surprise. “You are merely experiencing the joy that is Cullen. I assure you, my Lady, his opinions of you are quite clear and not what you think. However the nature of which is a discussion best left for another time.”

The two rode in silence until they reached Haven. Yennelyn watched Cullen put Shade in a stall. “They have an odd bond, Cullen and Nightshade.”

The mage laughed. “The name was a joke of sorts, it wasn’t meant to be serious. He was my horse, a gift from my father after I’d _found my way_.  The horse hated me.” Dorian explained.

_________

_“Ouch! Stupid beast, would you kindly stop knocking me down!”_

_Cullen looked up from his book at the sound of the horse snorting. “He’s toying with you, Dorian. It’s a game. He’s spirited.”_

_“Fine. If you’re so good with horses, you try.” Dorian quipped and rubbed the back of his leg. “I’ll feel that tomorrow no matter what healing I use.”_

_“Dorian, you whine far too much over simple concerns.” Cullen said._

_“Then perhaps you’d like to hear me make other noises?” Dorian lurched forward as the horse pushed him. “Enough!”_

_Holding in his laughter, Cullen patted and stroked the horse’s neck. “Thank you, kind sir.” The horse pushed gently at Cullen and he returned the gesture. “Don’t worry, Dorian stops - eventually.”_

_“Diabolical beast - he’s yours, Cullen.” Dorian bowed. “I’m not dealing with a temperamental horse.”_

_Cullen laughed. “Thank you. What’s his name?”_

_“His name is Nightshade, as in his next meal if he does that again!” Dorian stalked out of the courtyard._

Shock rang through her voice at Dorian’s tale. “Dorian! You would harm the horse over your pride?”

Dorian shook his head. “No I would not harm Shade. It was my intention to give him to Cullen when it was time for him to leave Tevinter.”

_________________________________

The mages gathered in Haven in increasing numbers over the following two days. Cullen’s opinions of mages changed as he witnessed how many mages aided the Inquisition rather than run away. Cullen had no issue with mages on the whole, his work often involved hunting renegades or men and woman who used magic for nefarious purpose.

Cullen waited for Varric in his cabin to discuss where Hawke might be found to better plan his next mission. Varric burst in. “The princess is on her way. The Empress sent a message  with instructions not to tell Yennelyn you were coming to see her.”

Varric hid behind the bedroom wall to keep out of sight. Cullen casually sauntered to the opposite wall for a view of Varric and the door as Yennelyn approached.

“Slick, Curly. That totally looked natural.” Varric quipped.

Cullen hushed Varric and waited. He could read Yennelyn’s anger as she entered the cabin.

“Would you care to explain this, Cullen?” She waived the Empress’ signature parchment. It was blue, dyed with juniper berries. The colored parchment was pretentious, but Celene’s favorite color. 

Cullen did not react. “May I read it first?”

“No. I’ll tell you what it says.”

_My dear Witcher,_

_It seems as though an age has passed since you graced our halls. We require aid on a delicate matter of state. The war within Orlais tasks us and we believe you may be of service yet again._

_The court awaits you. We asked that Yennelyn of Ostwick not accompany you as we cannot guarantee her safety._

 

Varric’s eyes grew wide at the clear message. Keep Yennelyn away from here.

“Tomorrow we close the Breach and then I will accompany you to see the Empress.” Yennelyn slammed the parchment on his table and left.

He shook his head. “I’m not taking her near Celene, so don’t even try Varric.” Cullen said. “Let’s get through tomorrow. She’ll be so busy with politics here that my absence won’t matter.”

_____________

Cullen packed his gear and prepared to leave. Yennelyn and the mages left before dawn to the reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They would wait until all had gathered before attempting to seal the Breach and Cullen planned to use Yennelyn’s absence to leave without incident. He returned to Haven’s Chantry to find Leliana.

“I’m leaving, Leliana. I’ll try to return in a few weeks after I find out what Celene needs and run an errand for Alistair.“ Cullen said.

“Cullen, only you would call Her Imperial Majesty by her first name as well as the King of Ferelden by his given name. I am sure you still have manners, yes?” Leliana asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, how could I forget my manners, Leliana, Forgive me. I will leave just after midday.” Cullen smiled and gave a slight bow. “See you.” He moved to the door.

“Goodbye, Cullen.” Leliana laughed and went back to the war map.

Cullen did not turn around. “Never say those words, Leliana, always _see you_.”  
  
_____________

_Solona giggled. Cullen’s face flushed. “That’s not appropriate mage and you know it.” He laughed._

_“So why are you laughing, Templar?” She teased. “If I am in the wrong for asking if you’d ever pictured the Senior Enchanter in his knickers, you should not be laughing.”_

_Cullen tried to regain his composure. Solona had a way of making him forget to behave properly in public areas. “I am not laughing at the Senior Enchanter, but rather that you delight in picturing him without them.”_

_Solona stood next to him. “So you are laughing at me?” She knew this would send his sensibilities aflame._

_Cullen reddened even more. “No. No please, that is not what I meant. Maker’s breath! I did not mean to insult you. Please forgive me. I would never intentionally hurt your feelings.”_

_“Cullen, you are far too sweet. My dear friend, I am teasing you because you blush so easily. Perhaps you will remember this and smile on your training exercise!” Solona always bubbled when she was around. He wanted to think it was his company that made her happy, but she was always full of kindness and joy. If they weren’t in the Circle, if he wasn’t a Templar – Solona would be a wonderful companion._

_Solona stood aside as the Knight Captain came upon Cullen’s post. “Time to go, Ser Cullen have your helmet and shield and report immediately to the gate.” The Knight Captain continued on out of sight._

_“I have to go. Thank you for . . .” Cullen blushed again. “Thank you.  Goodbye, Solona.”_

_Solona blanched. “Never say those words Cullen. Bad things happen. Always say see you. Don’t invite an end. Say it, Cullen.”_

_He shook his head. “Nothing will happen. Goodbye, Solona. Do not worry, I will return tomorrow.”_  
  
_________ 

Leliana knew Cullen had never said goodbye to anyone since. Solona told her the story but Leliana never realized he took her words to heart. “I apologize. Be well and return when you are able. See you.” She grinned.

“See you.” Cullen left the War Room. He spent a little time talking with Yennelyn’s companions. Each wished him a safe journey. Dorian waited with Shade.

“You could stay, Cullen. Orlais can wait. There’s so much good you can do _here_ or are you running away from Yen?”  Dorian guessed that Yennelyn’s condition was still troublesome for Cullen.

“Dorian, she doesn’t remember me. That’s the truth. Orlais asked for help as has Ferelden. This is why I am here; I am not about to hang about to see if Yen regains her memory. I’ll return when both requests are satisfied.” Cullen smirked. “She values your friendship. Enjoy it now if her memory comes back there is no telling what it might be like.”

Dorian inhaled and talked through his exhale. “You’re right. She loathed the air I breathed before all this.”

“Loathe is not quite the word I would use, Dorian. Something stronger and you’re halfway there.” Cullen adjusted his pack and tied it to the saddle.

“Right. I must have forgotten. You know where I’ll be. See you.” Dorian grinned.

“See you around, Dorian.” Cullen said as he lifted himself into the saddle.

______________________________

 _Haven falls if you don’t return if it hasn’t already._ Cullen saw the dragon but did not trust his eyes. _Archdemon? It doesn’t feel like an Archdemon, but there is evil here. Raw and ancient and it seeks to destroy._ The gates of Haven were closed and Cullen could hope the others were safe in the Chantry or had fled. He watched as a shot fired from a trebuchet caused an avalanche burying part of the invasion force on the mountain.

Dorian, Cassandra and Bull followed Yennelyn out onto the paths of Haven. “Where is he Dorian? That Cole said the knight with white hair fought alone!” Yennelyn called out. “Where is he?”

Cullen fought through the Templars who survived the deluge of snow. He’d fought Templars before and these men, if they were still men at all, were different. The red glow in their faces was odd; the crystals appeared to be perched on their armor and Cullen could tell it was red lyrium from the hum in his ears.

Haven’s bells rang out in the dark. _The Inquisition still stands. I need to draw these Templars away from the gates._ Cullen thought.  “Maker forgive me, I must move these men away from your children.” Cullen used the Igni sign and lit a row of trees aflame. He hoped that Rylen would send another volley from the trebuchets and that would put out the fire eventually, but for now the flames let the Templars deeper into the forest.

Cullen was surprised the strength of these red infected Templars matched his own. He pulled a Thunderbolt potion and raised his strength. The Templars fell and Cullen went in search of the dragon.  He cleared the forest just as a volley from the trebuchet hit the mountain again and sent a rushing wave of snow to engulf the encroaching enemy. Cullen searched the skies and found his target and something else. The creature was chaos in human form.

He stood on a ridge, the dragon circling overhead. The form was human, but the creature was not. Cullen reached out towards the ridge and flinched at the familiar chaos he saw. Black tendrils of magic tinged in red and purple reaching out to consume light and life. “It couldn’t be. We killed him – I killed him.”

Cullen heard the voice carried on the wind. “Witcher - the Witchers served the Imperium for centuries. You will serve me now. Bring the Anchor to me and be my right hand. The humans are lost, Witcher. This wretched group of humans means nothing to me; if you bring me the Anchor and stand with me I will give you the thief, she is yours but the Anchor is mine!”

 _Never_.  Cullen had to save them - all of them and to do so he had to return to Haven. He turned and sped towards the lake; he could scale the walls there and enter. There had to be a way out for the people and once secured he would face the darkspawn he thought was dead. 

A line of red Templars flanked a trebuchet. Cullen attacked from behind to slow the approach on the party up ahead.  Yrden did not slow the Templars at all. He tried Axii to see if he could influence one or more of them to fight alongside him but it failed. Aard could knock the Templars away from him or drop them to the ground and Ignii’s fire blast weakened the Templar’s armor.  He realized he focused too deeply on the darkspawn for his signs to be effective.

Cullen felt the fire mine beneath his feet and rolled away before it could trigger. He dashed up the slight hill and dodged another blast of fire. “Dorian, it’s me. Stop! Go back, please take them all back to the Chantry.”

Yennelyn joined them out of breath. “We have one more trebuchet as soon as Rylen sends the signal. There’s a way out beyond the Chantry. Cullen, you have to help the people. I’ll take care of the last one. I can’t do anything else to help, but I can turn a wheel!” Yennelyn hurried away followed by Dorian and Cassandra.

Cullen would find the darkspawn. Varric tried to run passed Cullen to follow the others but Cullen grabbed his coat. “Let me go!”

“There’s no time. It’s Corypheus- the darkspawn from the Warden prison -  he lives. I will find him. If I don’t return, find Hawke and a way to destroy him – do you understand?”

Varric stared at Cullen unable to speak at the revelation. “Now go.” Cullen released Varric and looked to the skies. _Find the dragon and find Corypheus._ Despite his enhanced vision, Cullen could not see  through the smoke rising around Haven. _The lookout post is undamaged and will allow me to search for Corypheus._

He climbed the lookout post in time to see the dragon land beyond the rock formations near the last trebuchet. Cullen’s attention snapped as a signal soared over the mountains beyond Haven.

“Who sent the signal?” He asked aloud. The trebuchet fired and hit the mountainside. Cullen jumped from the post and stumbled when he stopped short on the path. He heard the impact and the gathering roar of snow headed towards Haven. Cullen turned into the forest and fled.  


	7. Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven falls and the Witcher is missing. Some believe he lives. It is those closest to him who remember the past waiting for him to find his way. The Masque at the Winter Palace draws near and hope remains that Cullen will return.

Twenty-five days passed with no word, no body and as far as the advisers were concerned, Cullen would never be found. “Leliana, please send your scouts to any of the surrounding villages, Cullen has to be somewhere. Varric insists he was still in Haven when it was buried.”

Leliana agreed with Yennelyn – Cullen lived. She sent scouts all over the area and to both the Empress in Orlais and to King Alistair. The response was the same - deep concern, but the Witcher had not surfaced. Alistair offered as many knights as he could spare and offered to contact the Wardens for help but Leliana feared Cullen meant to remain lost. “My Lady Inquisitor my people searched for him; the Chargers have searched Haven for any signs of his . . .of him and Josephine has contacts as well from Antiva to Tevinter. No mention of the Witcher has been received since we arrived.”

Leliana already had a fair number of scouts stationed at cities throughout Thedas. They looked for a sign of Cullen and fed her information flowing in and out of these cities. Solona and Alistair sent funding caches to aid in the search. Leliana wondered if the disappearance was deliberate and not due to injury as many thought.

Rylen stared at Yennelyn. “Please don’t burden yourself with this, Inquisitor. Leliana will alert you as soon as there is news to tell.”

“Why shouldn’t I, Commander, because he is a monster?” Yennelyn’s anger surprised Rylen. “Cullen is a member of the Inquisition. He proved it when he remained as everyone fled. A monster feels no compassion and yet Varric told me Cullen planned to go after Corypheus. That is not the action of a monster. Commander, even you must recognize how time and again Cullen put himself in danger for others and yet we cannot spare anyone to find him?” Yennelyn finished her tirade and stared down her advisers.

Rylen addressed her, his voice gruff. Her insistence to help the Witcher unnerved him. “Inquisitor, we are must build our forces and continue the repairs on Skyhold. We need to prepare and the Inquisition must come first.  I am sure you agree.”

Yennelyn met his tone and responded. “I am aware of our responsibilities Commander. Find him.”

__________________________

Vimmark Chasm – Free Marches

 _I killed Corypheus; I have no doubts. We’d thrown everything we had at him: Hawke, Varric, Fenris and me. That he lived after that battle is unthinkable and yet the creature on the ridge in Haven had the same magical signature._ “Hawke was wrong. I should have killed Larius.” Larius was a Warden they found wandering the floors before Corypheus died. In spite of Cullen’s warnings that Larius could not be trusted, Hawke made the final decision to leave the man to his fate. Cullen tried to think how Larius would have resurrected a darkspawn until a thought trickled into consciousness. “You can’t resurrect a darkspawn. That means Corypheus really is one of the Seven. How in the . . . Maker’s Breath! How can I destroy a nightmare?” Cullen’s anger exploded and his voice echoed through the chasm as he bellowed. “Fuck!” Cullen did not know how one hunted one of the Corrupted nor if Corypheus resurrected once could he do so again?

________

_Alexius’ library impressed Cullen. Dorian would bring Cullen piles of books daily during their training sessions. Cullen’s mental acuity was impressive and Alexius pushed Dorian to impart as much information as possible to Cullen. As a result, Cullen often read while Dorian explained principles and theory._

_“Would you kindly put the book down and pay attention? These formulas are precise and you haven’t pulled your nose from those pages in hours.” Dorian’s aggravation grew as Cullen did not acknowledge the request. “Cullen are you listening?”_

_He dropped from his perch on the courtyard wall. “Dorian, Ferelden is not synonymous with slow or stupid.” Cullen continued. “It’s a one to one ratio, Dwarven Spirit to Honeysuckle. I’ve got it. I know the substitutions; we don’t have the same creatures, alcohol or even plant life anymore to make the potions as they were. Yes, I understand the toxicity is higher in these new formulas. I comprehend the herbal ratios and the methods. You’re like a mother hen. Enough.”_

_Dorian closed the journal. “What has you so enthralled?” He indicated the book in Cullen’s hands._

_“Lleandar Acrimos again. This one is about binding magic.” Cullen said returning to his resting spot on the wall._

_“Give me the book please, I need to put that away. More forbidden magic. Typical Alexius.” Dorian held out his hand._

_Cullen read aloud. “The caster binds one life to the other, and the two become as one mind, one life and one path.” He continued.  “To be bound by magic creates a powerful connection that can only be broken by the caster. Many marriages have ended in bloodshed due to frivolous binding rituals.” Cullen smirked. “There is no separation in Tevinter relationships only murder or death by natural causes.”_

_Dorian laughed. “There is no such thing as natural causes in the Imperium. Natural causes concocted by the local alchemist, perhaps. I’ll promise you this; if you find a woman you cannot live without I’ll consider it.”   Dorian’s confidence that Cullen would never seek a partner allowed him to make his pledge and leave it without another thought._

“I forgot about the binding magic. Another thing to remind Dorian to take care of besides information.” Cullen continued up towards the surface. He tried to piece what little information he learned from observations and his memories.

_Alexius provided Cullen with the most extravagant armor. Built to Cullen’s precise measurements it fit like a second skin, yet provided maximum protection. The lightweight armor allowed him full range of motion to move freely and carried magical enhancements to enchant the armor further depending on his foes. He marched through the Archon’s private rooms. “You are a Witcher, not a schoolboy, at least act the part!” Alexius hissed._

_Cullen realized Alexius was right. Cullen was handsome in face but his white hair and feral yellow eyes drew stares from men and women alike. His body conditioned by endless training; Cullen’s taut chest was broad and well defined, the armor hid nothing from wandering eyes. Strong balanced hips held muscular thighs forged by endless drills. He slowed his walk and tightened his arms and hands accentuating their strength. Cullen did not like_ this _Witcher he must become in front of these people. He could read them without effort. Fear, admiration and desire swarmed their thoughts. A lone hand tried to touch his chest, and he snatched it tight by reflex. He released the wandering hand and a single look sent the man stumbling backwards until he fell and ran from the hall._

 _When Alexius reached the private study of the Archon, Cullen turned back to those gathered and narrowed his gaze. He heard several gasps and a whimper before turning back to Alexius. “Enough of a monster for you, Magister?” Cullen did not speak nor acknowledge the Archon through the entire visit. He stood indifferent until Alexius allowed him to leave. Vincentius was sufficiently impressed and alarmed. There were no visits to the Archon after the initial meeting and Cullen learned to act the part when he needed to do so._  
  
________

“Vincentius -  that’s who did this. Yen’s father. He couldn’t stop her . . . so he went in search of one of Seven and found the worst of them and set him on Thedas.” Cullen ascended through the tunnels and floors with his mind furiously formulating plans and supplies he would need to hunt Corypheus.

Cullen wondered if Vincentius controlled Corypheus. _Would the Archon set Dumat’s chosen on the living? If it could bring Yennelyn back to him, he would._ Cullen needed books from Tevinter and to retrieve them he would need Dorian. “My exit from Haven was messy but necessary. Now I have to go back.”  Cullen said aloud. He’d hoped that wherever the Inquisition moved he could sneak in and out without too much difficulty.

 _The magic in Yen’s hand Corypheus called the Anchor. An anchor to what? A magic anchor ties magic to a point to give it a focus. This Anchor seals and opens Fade Rifts. Is it a key to the Fade?._ “This just keeps getting better.”  The Canticle of Silence told the story of the Corypheus and the Magisters Sidereal and how they entered the Fade in the flesh and were corrupted and cast out by the Maker. “If this is Corypheus, what I will need to find him I’m not willing to risk.“  Cullen rode Shade out of the mountains and towards Kirkwall.

________________

 _He’s in the Vimmark Mountains._ Leliana found the note on her desk. “Varric.” Leliana shook her head as she spoke aloud. When she confronted Varric about hiding the information from her, he admitted his choice of location was a guess.

“I have no idea where he is, it’s a guess. I am sure he survived Haven. You know him, Nightingale; tell me you think Cullen’s gone.” Varric wondered how deep Leliana was into Cullen’s affairs and if he needed to hold back information. None of Cullen’s inner circle knew the same information and except for the King and Queen of Ferelden, most of Cullen’s closest companions didn’t even know each other well. Hawke thought she’d figured it out once.

_“I’m telling you Varric, never believe the ‘I’m just not that bright’ bit with him. He is more calculating that any spymaster. He never talks to us in a group. It’s always one to one. Think about your conversations with him, who else has ever been present?” Hawke prodded._

_Varric sat back in his chair and recalled the more in depth conversations with Cullen. She was right. Cullen shared nothing of importance with over one person at a time. He made sure every detail seemed a secret. “Maferath’s balls, bastard plays us to keep his secrets.” Varric laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “It’s smart – a little strange, but smart.”_

_“Exactly, Varric. No witnesses, no way to corroborate any details. We don’t share the information with each other and in keeping his secrets it keeps us at arm’s length.” Hawke concluded._

_Varric had a thought. “What about the princess? How deep in this is she because she’s definitely a bit unstable.”_

_Hawke moved closer to Varric. “All I feel about her is that the sooner she leaves Kirkwall; we’ll all be a lot safer. There’s something between them that’s beyond my knowledge, Varric, it’s not just the way they are together - there’s magic and to be honest, it’s not good.”_

_______________________

Dorian’s relief moved from a bottle at the Herald’s Rest to the library. Skyhold was in need of better books. He would send a few inquiries to contacts in Tevinter for a collection of tomes he would need. _He lives. I will kill him if he ever shows his face again. I am sure of one thing, if Cullen has been away all this time, he’s investigating some part of this Corypheus._ Dorian sat in a chair and thought about what would come next. _How to get the information without alerting the Archon will be key. I need to renew the magic too. Even though-_ Dorian’s thoughts were interrupted by Yennelyn’s arrival. 

She appeared in front of him and smiled. _Normally, I’d fear that smile but for now she’s harmless._ He thought.

“Dorian? I understand that Cullen is alive. I wanted to be sure you were well.” Yennelyn asked.

He smiled. “Yes, I am, your concern is . . . appreciated. You get used to disappearances with him. He’s a shitty friend, but will always have your back, if that makes sense.”

Yennelyn moved closer into the alcove. “I understand you are friends but there is nothing more? I thought perhaps Cullen was the reason . . . the situation with your father?”

Dorian coughed in surprise. “Cullen is important to me, but not a lover. Cullen prefers the company of women and he has but one love.” He realized who stood before him and stopped. Dorian inhaled and picked at a random book. “And I should not be speaking of them. It is not my story to tell.”

Yennelyn laughed. “That has never stopped you before, Dorian. I’m curious.”

Dorian did not face her. “I’m afraid this time, I must decline.  I wonder if Qarinus library has Lavinius’ compendium of spells and curses. We might have a bit of fun with that.”

Yennelyn realized Dorian was trying to redirect the conversation. “Why is it that those of you who know him protect him so? Rylen would have me believe that he has magic to cloud your mind and judgement.”

He laughed. “Immunity to Cullen’s particular form of magic comes with time. Here’s a secret to protection. Get used to the sight of his chest and back when uncovered. If you can resist that sight, my dear Inquisitor, you are safe.”

Yennelyn flushed and Dorian smirked at the sight. “I see you know what I mean.”

She sank into a chair. “He is intriguing. That’s all. Those scars. Was it you he protected from a dragon? Not that I am implying you are reckless, but. . .”

“He told you the story of a reckless mage who ran off to battle a dragon and I seem the type to do just that?” Dorian’s smiled widened. “No, it wasn’t me. Perhaps one day you will learn the rest of the story. It’s _fascinating_ , I assure you.  Shouldn’t you be preparing for the Winter Palace? I am looking forward to all those delightfully wretched courtiers and scandalous tales that proliferate during events like these. The food and drink is always worth the visit. Is this your first time to one of these affairs?”

Yennelyn marveled at Dorian’s skill of twisting a conversation around to where he wanted. “I can see you will be an excellent companion for this event, Dorian. Please do not forget why we are going for it is not the food nor the scandals.”

Dorian continued to search through books as he spoke. “In Tevinter, a party isn’t a party without a few clandestine meetings and a murder or two. It’s good to know Orlesians know how to give a proper party.” Dorian quipped. “While we are on the subject of scandals, what is this I hear about a certain leader of the Inquisition and one of her advisers atop the ramparts?”

The shock that crossed her face told Dorian everything. _Well I won’t be sharing that little fact with Cullen when he returns._ Dorian continued. “I see by your face it’s true. How interesting, my dear Inquisitor and what happens if Ser Intriguing returns?” Dorian did not miss the bloom of color rise in her face. “I see. We must wait then won’t we?”

Yennelyn retreated down the stairs leaving Dorian smiling after her. He shook his head. _I rather enjoy blushing Yennelyn more than the dragon queen. Perhaps we can work on keeping part of this Yennelyn if we determine how to restore her memory. “_ Andraste’s tits this will be quite the spectacle.” Dorian mumbled.

________________________

Leliana received word Cullen was travelling from Kirkwall to Jader and should arrive at Skyhold within a day or two. She hoped to convince Cullen to honor the Empress’ request to assist at the Winter Palace. Leliana was well aware of how Cullen’s presence could aid the inquisition. The courtiers would fancy him greatly, but he would also give them an advantage over an assassin. She covered her smile as thoughts of the past found her.

_“Sol. It’s a trap. That woman is a lure and if you follow you will be ambushed.” Cullen continued. “There was sweat on her upper lip and she would not look at any of us in the eye.”_

_Alistair disagreed. “You’re scary, Cullen, that’s why she wouldn’t look at you. She is in danger and we’re sitting here discussion sweat and eye movements. Solona, we need to help.”_

_Solona looked to Morrigan and Wynne. “Cullen would not lie to us, Alistair. Maybe we should be cautious?”_

_Alistair sighed. “Can we please try another tactic besides ‘Cullen says’? It’s getting old.”_

_Morrigan snickered. “Someone’s jealous.”_

_“Could you just . . . go away? Just please, don’t speak.” Alistair’s did not hide his jealousy and even though Solona assured him of her affections, Alistair hoped Cullen would resume his own search for the Archdemon._

_Not wanting to cause any more friction, Cullen agreed. “Let’s go.”_

_The passage, blocked by an overturned cart and the woman who sought their attention earlier stood at the entrance. Cullen saw others poised on the overlook to his right and left. He touched Morrigan’s elbow with a motion imperceptible to those hiding around the passage. He nodded slightly and her eyes widened in understanding. She lifted her staff, let the bottom rest on the ground and she primed a spell in her left hand. Cullen waited for the signal he knew would come._

_When the attack began, Cullen felled one archer to his left with his cross bow. Morrigan took down the woman in front of them. Cullen stepped in front of Alistair as two arrows flew to his position. “Move!” Cullen grunted through gritted teeth. He pulled out one arrow and then the other. “Minor wounds. I hate being right.” He said aloud and sprinted to the left overlook. He brought down both archers and sprinted across to the next overlook. Cullen missed the trap and triggered it knocking him to the ground. He blocked a sword aimed at his head and used his Aard sign to knock the assailants away from him. When the last of the assailants fell, Cullen left Solona and Alistair to speak with their captive and returned to the cart._

_Leliana opened her mouth to speak and Sten spoke up. “The Witcher was right. There is no need to inquire as to the truth.”_

The images of the past faded away leaving Leliana with a frown and thoughts of Yennelyn. _The involvement with the Commander is unfortunate._ Leliana, not usually concerned with the personal dealings of Rylen resolved to talk him out of his infatuation with the Inquisitor.

“I fail to see how any of this is your concern, Sister Leliana. My private affairs are to remain so.” Rylen did not look up from his desk. “I am sure you have other pressing matters.”

Leliana could not reveal the information she gathered on Inquisitor Trevelyan. Rylen would likely use it against Dorian and Cullen as proof of their collusion with any number of factions. “Commander, you should know that Lady Trevelyan is . . .betrothed.” _Lie. Clever, but a lie nonetheless._ Leliana thought. “Her memory loss is severe, and she is unaware. I have agreements in my possession from her family and signed by the Most Holy before the tragedy. If her memory returns, she will be a very different person.”

Rylen sighed and dropped a folder onto his desk. “Thank you for your concern; I will consider what you have said Sister Leliana and expect you will allow me to review the documents you referred to moments ago.”

She nodded. “You have only to ask, Commander. Thank you for your time.” Leliana left concerned at what might occur when Cullen returned.

________________________

Cullen and Shade arrived at Skyhold several days later. “Impressive.” Cullen said aloud. Shade safely with the Horsemaster, Cullen asked where he might find Dorian. Blackwall stood in the barn next to the stables and as long as Cullen didn’t touch the Warden, he could talk from a distance.

“Witcher, welcome back from the Fade. Everyone here has been in a right state since you disappeared.” Blackwall explained not turning to face Cullen.

“I should apologize, I had to investigate a part of my past I thought was over and turns out it wasn’t. I am looking for Dorian where might I find him?” Cullen asked. He didn’t mean to be rude or short with the Warden, but he needed to find Dorian and then leave as soon as possible. “I apologize for being curt, Warden, you deserve better treatment from me, but this can’t wait.”

Blackwall faced Cullen unsure how to respond. “He’s in the library, just beneath the birds.” He pointed to the stairs nearby.

Cullen gave a slight bow in respect and hurried in the indicated direction. He’d just mounted the first step when a familiar voice rang out.

“Sneaking in without saying so much as hello, Cullen?” Yennelyn stood leaning slightly forward with her hands on her hips.

“Yen?” Cullen said tentatively. She’d use that complaint with him before. Usually when he’d return from a contract and wanted a bath before he saw her. Cullen reached out with his senses hoping he’d see her magic returned. He tried to hide his disappointment as the mass of green and gold energy was all that greeted him. _Not my Yen._ “Lady Trevelyan, nice to see you again. Excuse me.”

Her violet eyes raged at his dismissal. “Nice to see you? You disappeared – for weeks! I’ve had countless people searching for you. I thought – we all thought you were dead!”

Cullen rolled his eyes and faced her again. “My lady, I am a Witcher. That means I hunt the nightmares that stalk Thedas and right now the biggest nightmare _ever_ to walk in Thedas has returned. Finding him is more important than making you feel good about missing me.” Cullen turned away and took the steps quickly to escape the argument.

Yennelyn did not back down and followed him. “Missing you? You think this is about you? I’ll have you know that the Commander…” Yennelyn gasped as Cullen took her hand in his.

“Listen carefully, if you do not stop talking, I will pick you up, put you over my shoulder and carry you through this courtyard to find your Commander and drop you at his feet. Is that plain enough for you . . . my Lady?” Cullen’s voice penetrated through to her darkest spaces. He eyes flicked to the lion and the gaping maw threatening to devour her whole.

Cullen saw the fear in her eyes and his heart sank. He did not want to frighten her, but he decided and would hold to his decision. He released her hand gently and left her gaping at him as he entered the open door.

Cullen closed the door behind him and closed his eyes.

Dorian cleared his throat pulling Cullen’s attention to him. Dorian leaned against the wall and spoke to his friend. “Trouble?” He grinned. “In case you were wondering, which by the way you are staring at me I can tell you weren’t, yes – your little spat was overhead.” Dorian saw no change in his friend’s expression but dropped his voice to a whisper and continued. “I’m surprised that I’m not joining in her little tantrum but I happen to believe in your uncanny ability to survive. You are here for a reason, so out with it.”

Dorian waited as Cullen pulled out a folded parchment. “Two things: first, lists of the books I need to you find and research. I recommend asking for Leliana’s help with the more delicate titles and Josephine’s aid with the more public books. I trust in your persuasive abilities with Yen to see this done.”

“I’m afraid a good many of these are in private collections, Cullen.” Dorian stated. “These three in particular will be difficult to retrieve.” The three titles were either in the Grand Library in Minrathous or in the Archon’s private collection.

“Remember Andrade in the private wing? She’s still there, and she is still in the employ of the Ben-Hassrath. Talk to Bull.” Andrade Honria Crominea was a third cousin to the Archon and hated the Imperium more than seemed possible. She’d fed information to the Ben Hassrath from the age of nine until well into her sixty-seventh year. “Dorian, send a letter first, she always had a thing for the men in your family.” Cullen smirked.

Dorian coughed. “You’re enjoying yourself far too much, Cullen. What’s the other thing you need from me?”

Cullen pulled Dorian along looking for a spot away from prying ears. He settled on a corner hidden by crates. “I am asking you to listen before you react.”

Brows knit and a frown quickly replaced Dorian’s previous expression. “I don’t like where this is going and you haven’t shared your request.”

Cullen stared at his friend. “I need you to remove the bond.”

Dorian’s eyes popped wide, and he shook his head. “No, no do not ask me to do this. Give it more time. She doesn’t know who she is Cullen, you can’t leave her with Rylen. What if you go and she remembers? What then? You would leave the rest of us to deal with her wrath? You are the only living soul that could ever calm her.” Dorian pulled on Cullen’s collar and whispered. “Cullen, _what if she truly wakes_?”

The two regarded each other. Neither one wanted to admit the shared fears of Yennelyn’s potential for destruction. “Vincentius lied Dorian, what he claimed is not possible. She is an undisciplined mage and nothing more.”

Dorian’s voice echoed through the space. “An undisciplined mage!?” He dropped his tone again. “Undisciplined is a small child who discovers he can set the tapestries aflame or freeze the flowers on the table. You know this is much more and you are telling me you want to walk away? I cannot allow it, Cullen. You accepted the responsibility when you tricked me into this in the first place.”

Cullen tried to argue but Dorian held up a hand. “Don’t you dare, Cullen. You are deciding based on what exactly? Are you feeling neglected or unloved? You created this mess between you two and now you are _stuck_ with it until the Inquisition wins over Corypheus or the world ends. I will gather the books you require but as for the other request? You ask too much.”

Dorian threw his hands up and walked away.

_“Yennelyn of Ostwick? Cullen do you at least attempt to find out about a woman before you take her to bed? Not only did you pick the one woman in all of Thedas you should avoid - being who you are; you stand there and tell me you can’t live without her? No, Cullen, Yennelyn is a pretty toy to admire and perhaps play with once or twice but you cannot keep her.” Dorian remembered his promise to Cullen when they were both eighteen and he hoped Cullen did not. “A night’s passion and you want her glued to your hip? I expect this from others but not you.”_

_“This is not about a night of passion. She needs me.” Cullen responded. “You promised, Dorian.”_

_“Cullen, not Yennelyn – choose some farm girl or village woman you meet on your travels who keeps you warm at night and waits happily for your return; you do not seek out the impetuous daughter of the Archon. She hides in plain sight in the Marches -  you must realize this; he knows where she is but will not take her from Ferelden or Orlais and that is why she is not sitting locked in a gilded cage in Minrathous. Thank her for a lovely time and forget her.” Dorian knew no matter the argument he presented there was nothing he could say to change Cullen’s mind._

_“I can’t. You owe me this Dorian. I have never tried to hurt you or blame you for the events of the past and I have never asked for anything from you.” Cullen’s eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. “This is what I want from you. I know who Yennelyn is and the danger she poses. I will not let her go. Give me this, please. How better to fulfill my promise to work against the Imperium than to keep her safe?”_

__________________

Cullen would have to apologize to Dorian as soon as time allowed. Dorian is right, but I believe this is best. When I find Corypheus I want her far away from the fight. He climbed the stairs towards the aviary.

 _Only Leliana would have animals inside a castle_. He thought.  Leliana’s nug usually snuck inside Alistair and Solona’s tent when it was cold and the squeal from Alistair each time it was discovered was a source of amusement.

He could see Leliana bent over her desk reviewing papers as he climbed the stairs. Cullen’s foot barely touched the top step when Leliana spoke without looking up. “I thought you trusted me enough to at least tell me you were alive, but I am pleased you are well. We have much to do and you are expected at the Winter Palace with the Inquisition.”

Cullen snorted. “Not a chance. I have multiple reasons why I will not go. The most pressing is the seven foot tall corrupted darkspawn threatening to destroy Thedas.”

Leliana smiled. “Eight, we think and we are addressing Corypheus. The assassination of the Empress is the first step into the alternate future you witnessed.” Over the next hour, Leliana outlined the information she received and their plan. Cullen would guard the Empress. “Essentially, you are to stand and look pretty while guarding the most precious thing in the Orlesian Empire. Those are Her Imperial Majesty’s words, not mine.” 

Cullen grumbled and rubbed his face. He had a full beard at this point and he knew he’d have to shave for the occasion. “Fine. I’m not shaving, non-negotiable.”

Leliana smiled and tilted her head. “Oh no, the Empress was explicit, she prefers you with a beard and sent along what she deemed proper attire. I have a room set aside for you. Welcome to Skyhold, Cullen.” She handed him a small folded parchment.

Cullen was sure he heard her giggle as he descended the staircase.

__________________________

Cullen unfolded Leliana’s note, expecting a map but instead found a message.

_Madame de Fer plots. Be careful. Perhaps gentle persuasion?_

He chuckled at her choice of words.

_“Cullen, put the Teyrn down.” Alistair said while he attempted to hide his grin._

_Cullen had Loghain MacTir by the collar of his tunic and turned his head to speak to Alistair. “Must I? This seems only fitting. He wanted to talk, this just guarantees the truth.”_

_Alistair coughed. “As much as I appreciate the help, I believe the Teyrn will be reasonable.”_

_“Fine, I’ll just stand over there in case - watching.” Cullen glared menacingly at Loghain and moved against the wall. He narrowed his eyes and kept Loghain riveted._

_Leliana leaned towards him and whispered. “That was impressive. What do you call that method of coercion?”_

_Cullen leaned towards the bard. “Gentle persuasion. Works every time.”_

Cullen would find Vivienne another time. Right now he had apologies to deliver to Dorian. Cullen only had to enter the main hall to be accosted by Varric. “Whatever you and Dorian are fighting about, you need to fix it. He will work his way through the entire stash at the Rest.”

Varric led Cullen into the Herald’s Rest. Cullen acknowledged Bull sitting against the wall. Bull pointed up.

Cullen found Dorian sitting alone on the second floor. The multitude of bottles lined up bothered him for a moment until he noticed all were still corked.  “People will talk if we keep fighting like this, Dorian.” Cullen sat down across from the mage as he laughed. “Idle gossip, how I adore you.”

“Not in the mood to drink?” Cullen asked.

“Oh, please. I was until I thought about where we are and what is happening. I realized something important.” Cullen did not reply and Dorian continued. “Damn you for your noble sense of honor. You aren’t running away from her, you can tell she is conflicted and you are giving her a chance to discover love without magic. I hate you, you know. Just when I think you are finally abandoning your human sensibilities you do what is honorable. I will honor your request – after Corypheus is defeated.”

Cullen sat back to think. “Agreed.”

“Excellent. Now I have one question for you, how is your dancing?” Dorian asked. He knew Cullen was traveling with the Inquisition to the Winter Palace.

“Dancing. No dancing, my friend. I am to stand guard, look pretty, protect the Empress and the beard stays.” Cullen said.

“Check whatever vestments the Empress sent. If she wants you to look pretty it may involve standing about without a tunic.”

The two laughed as the conversation degenerated into their usual banter of insults and sarcasm until dawn.

___________________

Ten years after the Exalted Marches in 2:20 Glory the once capital of the Dales Halamshiral found itself abandoned and neglected until the Exalted Age. A grand chateau was ordered by Alphonse Valmont as a retreat. An uprising in the Blessed age destroyed the Chateau Lion, but it was eventually rebuilt and named the Winter Palace. It was meant as a refuge for only the ruler of the Orlesian Empire and immediate family and the home of the Imperial Court during the harshest months of the season. 

 The Winter Palace was about to host a grand masque. The Inquisition gathered in the gardens near the main gate several hours before entry was allowed.

“I still want to know why I am stuck in this getup and Cullen gets to wear normal clothes.” Varric complained again about the Inquisition’s formal wear. “This is not a way to blend in, we stand out. Who’s idea was red uniforms?”

Josephine sighed. “It’s a united front, Varric. Just behave for the love of Andraste, please?”

“Since you asked so nicely Ruffles, I reserve the right to complain loudly at another time.” Varric said.

A page bearing the Valmont family crest of the Lion approached the group and addressed Cullen directly. “Ser Rutherford, you will follow me. The Empress requests your presence immediately.”

Cullen nodded to the page, turned back to Josephine and Yennelyn and rolled his eyes.

Yennelyn hid her smile. Josephine frowned. “Do _not_ do that inside. You will guarantee we are never invited back.” She hissed.

“Lady Ambassador, I have no problem with this as my final visit, however for you I will behave.” Cullen offered his hand to Josephine, and she took it with a slight curtsey. His lips did not touch her hand. Instead he lifted his gaze to both women and winked. The collective sigh induced a coughing fit in both Varric and Dorian. Cullen completed a bow and walked towards the entrance.

“Slick, Curly.” Varric whispered as he passed. The low chuckle emanating from the Witcher signaled he’d heard.

Cullen’s long strides brought him to the page’s position. “Her Radiance requests you remove the hair band from your hair and do not share you have weapons on your person. Nod if you agree.”

Cullen did so and removed the hair band. His hair fell to his shoulders and was trimmed as per Celene’s request. The tunic was a midnight blue trimmed in gold. It fell just beyond his waist and covered a fitted pair of trousers, tight to the leg. The boots matched as well giving no doubt that he belonged with the Valmont family. What were unseen were the daggers fitted to the lining of the boots, two for each foot. The top of the grip a star sapphire blended with the leather as an apparent adornment. The belt of the long tunic hid two more small half daggers. Cullen prepared for close combat should danger find the Empress.

Empress Celene waited for Cullen in her private room off the Ballroom.  She knew exactly what was happening and hoped between the Witcher and her Arcane Advisor she could retain the throne of the Empire. Celene would join him on the balcony once he was situated.

Cullen was not announced as he entered the ballroom. The page took him across the ballroom floor directly to the Empress. “Her Imperial Majesty will join you shortly and she invites you to wait on her private balcony.” The page left Cullen and closed the doors.

Cullen’s senses shocked into awareness. He was not alone and the signature of familiar magic confused him. He wheeled around to see the impossible. “I knew I should have destroyed the Eluvian.”

“Well, well. What do we have here? A _Witcher_ has come to Halamshiral. Have you come to lure yet another fragile little fly into your web of deceit or will you kill the Empress and collect your fee as you did with me?”

Cullen shook his head. “Morrigan, you are mistaken. I am here to protect Celene, not to kill her.”

Morrigan’s bitter tone taunted him with each word as she primed magic in both hands. “How I should like to believe you Cullen. Alas, I cannot. Goodbye my lover, time to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She had to return! I couldn't change that...now we see what happens! Let me know what you think! Find me on tumblr: eravalefantasy.tumblr.com


	8. Fragmented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of Morrigan, an unknown assassin, or Rylen and Yennelyn - which of these will make a night at the Winter Palace worse for Cullen as he tries to prevent the Empress' assassination?

 

_Acasius scolded me repeatedly for my compassion. “Cullen walk the Path, a Witcher is never on a fucking crusade! Do the job, collect your fees and leave! Why must you stop and help every citizen who asks for aid? Let the unworthy do their own toil! You owe nothing to those above or beneath you.” Acasius squared off in the courtyard. He lunged towards Cullen as the blade struck his armor. “Wake up and fight! A Witcher is useless if he hesitates. Does your foe hesitate? No, hesitate once and you die! To be a Witcher there is you and everyone else, Cullen. Strike even if the person you face in battle is known to you.”_

_That compassion I refuse to ignore just came back to bite me in the ass. The foe across from me was once a part of my heart. We took refuge in each other through the cold and darkness. Now, I have one pissed off witch in front of me who wants nothing short of my beating heart in her hands.  Great fucking party, Celene._

“Morrigan, I swear by the Maker and His Bride I am not contracted to harm the Empress.” Cullen flashed another Quen sign to keep his shield active. Morrigan was sending bolts of lightning at a dizzying pace. As long as he timed his movements he should escape serious injury. _She’s improved and is much stronger; if two or three of the blasts hit me I’m done. Great idea to leave my armor with the others._

Morrigan spoke between blasts. “I care not for your Maker, Cullen. Face me and fight, you fool!”

 _Think, Cullen. This needs to end before the Empress arrives. You must be in this Ballroom tonight._ Cullen looked into Morrigan’s face. _She’s angry, but there is pain there. I have an idea, it’s not the best idea and I know this will really hurt._

Cullen dropped his shield just before Morrigan’s next two blasts.  The first hit him in the stomach, the lightning punching through his body forced his torso to pitch forward.  Cullen stumbled closer to Morrigan trying to fight through the pain from the magical current coursing through him. It was the second blast that dropped him to his knee.  He fought through the adrenaline, clenching every muscle, grinding his teeth to ignore the attack and his attacker. He tried to speak. “Finish it.” Cullen’s head dropped forward his hair covering his face tight with pain.

He waited for the final blast and exhaled loudly when none came.  Delicate but firm hands gripped his arm and shoulder and supported him. “You are an even bigger fool for not facing me.” Morrigan helped Cullen to stand as waves of healing magic quickly replaced the pain.  “You and your honor, Cullen, do you truly believe you deserved punishment through pain?” She watched as he nodded slightly through his recovery. “You do? Cullen ‘tis one thing to take responsibility for one’s actions but another entirely to carry the burden of blame for so long. I know what you did was by contract and I shall not seek the patron out for revenge, but you will fail in your endeavor this night; the Empress shall not be harmed. I will see you out now.“

A third person had entered the balcony area.  “We sincerely hoped you would work together this night as Advisor and Bodyguard.  Please explain the meaning of this display.”

Morrigan continued to support Cullen, however she could tell his strength was returning and he could stand unaided soon.  “Imperial Majesty, I regret an assassin infiltrated your home. I have dealt with the contract and will escort the Witcher out. I assure you there is no danger here.”

“A sparring match you say? What a delightful gift, although perhaps the Witcher misunderstood the terms. We invited Ser Rutherford here, Lady Morrigan as Our Bodyguard for the evening. “ The Empress’ annoyance evident she kept her tone even.

Morrigan huffed through her nose. She knew the grievous error was hers. “Imperial Majesty, the blame is mine; I believed the Witcher arrived to harm you. I apologize for my error and the unwarranted display."

The Empress laughed, controlled and cosmetic. “Lady Morrigan, you are such a delight. Your theatrics with the Witcher were impressive, but We trust the display is now over? We have much to discuss with Ser Rutherford.”

Morrigan held tight to Cullen’s arm. He turned his head towards her and she saw a smirk creep onto his face. “You can let go now, Morrigan.”

She set her jaw and glared at him her voice a faint whisper. “Void take you.” She released him and stepped forward with a deep curtsy and hurried out the double doors.

The Empress laughed and floated towards Cullen. She raised a gloved hand high showing she wished to be led and Cullen did not fail. His hand met hers and she gasped. “We forget you are so much warmer than others, Cullen. “

“I apologize if I startled you, Your Radiance.” Cullen offered as he led her to the balcony edge.

The Empress sat on a bench much to Cullen’s surprise.  “Sit. There is little time. The time for flowing prose is over. You will keep this conversation private.”  He sat surprised at the loss of the Empress’ usual jovial tone. “We have spoken plainly on a prior occasion and will do so now.”

Cullen nodded. Celene had only addressed him as she planned to do once before, when she feared for her life. “The threat is real.” Celene’s eyes held his. She was not weak willed or feeble minded as many believed.

She continued her tone harsh and commanding she spoke. “Gaspard is behind this -  I am convinced and you will see I survive this night. Do this and I shall forget Yennelyn still breathes; the simplest of transactions - a life for a life. What say you?”

Cullen knew this was no trick. The Empress of Orlais did not make deals, she gave orders. Cullen stood and bowed.   “On my life, Your Radiance.” Cullen offered his hand again and the Empress stood.  The steeled gaze and the harsh tone of the conversation melted. The Empress of Orlais returned and once again floated towards the double doors.

“We look forward to your company this evening Ser Rutherford and trust you will see the will of Orlais is done. One final request, be so kind as to keep the fighting with the Lady Morrigan away from the guests? Once the evening is concluded you may attempt to kill each other again, but take it out in the courtyard, We are partial to the lovely floors.” The Empress glided towards her private room. “We ask that you remain here, unless you would care to entertain Us for a time?”

Cullen shook his head.  “I will stand here, Your Radiance.”

“Pity. The Lady and the Lion. Perhaps the bard’s tale holds true after all?”  The Empress laughed again and closed the door between them.

____________________________

 _The Lady and the Lion. I heard it first here in Orlais._ Cullen thought. _Almost had to carry Yen out before she hurt the poor bard who was performing it._

Cullen grumbled as the musicians warmed their instruments and the song began. He rolled his eyes and shuffled from right to left on his feet to dissipate the aggravation.

_Far in the north a tale to be told_

_Of men and monsters, and one in between_

_As he travels the Path to the Light_

_Defender, lover, fiend and warrior_

_A Lion stepped out of the desert_

_And the Lady she rose from the waters_

_There is naught to fear but the Lady_

_If she walks without the Lion beside her._

_Cities fall and good men hide_

_The Lady will take her price_

_But the Lion he calms and protects us_

_From the wrath of the violet beauty_

_A Lion stepped out of the desert_

_And the Lady she rose from the waters_

_There is naught to fear but the Lady_

_If she walks without the Lion beside her._

 

The musicians continued the tune in the Ballroom but did not continue to sing. _I hate that song, but Yen despises it. It’s a good thing she has no remembrance of it or anything right now. She will need to focus here._ Cullen thought. _The Inquisition will look after Yennelyn. I can’t risk exposing Celene to Corypheus’plans._  

Cullen felt Morrigan’s magic return before he heard her gown rustle. “I thought you might enjoy hearing the song again and the musicians were quite pleased when I requested they play it for you. A fitting tale for two mismatched lovers, ‘tis true. So you are the Lion and the Lady . . .she is the Inquisitor I hear, but not just any Lady. Eyes the color of rare stones, a heart as dark as obsidian that beats but without compassion and no care for any living soul but her lion.”

“At least she’s human, witch.” Cullen crossed his arms and sighed. “I hate that fucking song, Morrigan. Could you leave it alone?”

Morrigan stiffened at Cullen’s insult. “I am human, Witcher. _We_ have souls, as for the Lady that remains to be seen. ‘Tis a curious thing - violet eyes. It does not occur in nature.”

“Morrigan, do you really want to open this wound again? I’m sorry,  I should not have implied – “

She sighed. “Even after all these years, we are incapable of civil tongues. The fault is mine and I would like to start over.” She did not look at him, instead she stared straight ahead. Their conversation carried in low tones as was always their way. “I must apologize for my earlier mistake.”

Cullen crossed his arms again and settled on his feet. “Forget the apology, it isn’t necessary. You’ve gotten stronger Morrigan, I’m impressed.”

Morrigan moved closer. “How impressed, Cullen?”

He shifted as Morrigan touched his arm. “Don’t Morrigan, I can’t.” Cullen shifted his weight again. “I’m sorry, I was commenting on your magical skills, nothing more.” Cullen did not want to begin yet another argument. He could hear that the guests would be announced soon and that would bring Celene out of her room.  “It is almost time; will you stand with Celene?”

Morrigan did not meet Cullen’s eye. “No, I should check the areas off limits to guests. Will I see you later this evening?”

He had to keep her attention on the problem. “Morrigan I am here to protect the Empress and hope that the Inquisition succeeds. Once the night is over, I will collect my fee and move on. ”

Morrigan laughed. “My dear, sweet Witcher, you have never followed the Path. You are incapable of refusing a request to rescue a kitten in a tree or to pass a child in tears. “

Cullen glared. “Get to the point, Morrigan what do you want?”

“If you’d asked me when we faced each other on the balcony, I would have taken nothing less than your heart in my hands. ‘Tis a curious thing, to care for someone and hate each breath they steal from existence, yet I realize ‘tis not me who is wronged. ‘Tis you. Why should I be so bold to suggest the mighty Witcher is the victim? We must speak later and not of feelings and betrayals of the past but of what pulls at my attention and what pulls at my attention _is the Lady.”_  She stared back at him dark lashes covering eyes to match his narrowed and a smirk gave way to grin filled with secrets.

Cullen returned her stare until the intensity forced her to retreat. “If I learn of a single blemish Morrigan,  I will not yield until one or both of us fall.” 

The tumbler clicked and the Empress emerged. Cullen turned and smiled. “Your Radiance.” Cullen bowed and took her offered hand. Celene would stand above the ballroom floor as the guests arrived and presented themselves.

Celene spoke, hushed and hurried as they walked. “Do not smile, do not acknowledge, you know what to do.”

Cullen chuckled prompting a quieted cough from the Empress. “Yes, _Your Radiance_. Intimidate to the point of fear but not to soil.” The last time Cullen attended to the Empress; he’d frightened one of the pages so much the poor man soiled himself and proved inconsolable for days. 

The Empress laughed. “Very good, We are pleased your remembered at least _one_ lesson.” The admonishment was Celene’s polite reminder to watch his behavior and tone. 

Noble after noble presented themselves before the Empress. Cullen watched each approach; he knew to find the assassin meant finding the patron. Once the parade of nobles ended Cullen realized the patron was not in the Ballroom.  The only true dangers came from those Celene knew plotted against her, Gaspard and Florianne.  The family had a long and happy history of deceit, betrayal and murder. Gaspard’s wife Calienne arranged for a hunting ‘accident’ that took the life of Celene’s mother. Celene’s father, Prince Reynaud killed Calienne in retaliation only to die from illness due to poison on Calienne’s blade.

Cullen dismissed Celene’s history from his head. Orlesian nobles and those in Tevinter are similar. _Equally insane. Neither Gaspard nor Florianne shows any fear or no more than usual._ Cullen thought. 

Celene turned to Cullen and raised her hand to be led back to her balcony. The guards departed and the doors closed. “That timid creature is not Yennelyn of Ostwick. You will leave me with the guards and find this assassin without the Inquisition. We have no use for a scared child. We hoped to make her Our ally but she is not -  that is not the Lady.”

Cullen forgot himself as he replied. “No, it is not.” He realized his mistake but the Empress waved him off.

“We took no offense Cullen but We require time for contemplation.” The Empress moved away towards the edge of the balcony. 

The firestorm Celene hoped for in her negotiations would not appear. The confusion and frustration the Empress faced were his constant companions. Cullen search the Ballroom for Yennelyn and located her talking to Rylen to the left; he looked away as he realized the distance between Yen and Rylen and the way others near them leaned in to listen – the conversation was personal.

_Yennelyn rested her head on his shoulder. They sat together near a fire pit at the Dalish campsite.  “Could you say the words once and I swear I will never ask the question again.”_

_Cullen took her hand in his. “I’m here and you’re in one piece, Yen. Why are words so important?”_

_“I could have died Cullen, it’s important.” She replied._

_“Yen, you planned to jump from a balcony on the second floor- a few broken bones, you’d live. Why didn’t you ask for my help?” She’d come to the villa in Orlais to help find a young Dalish elf and rescue the girl._

_Yen left the inn in the early morning while he slept in. Cullen suspected she had enhanced his drink to encourage sleep. When he woke and felt oddly groggy, Cullen knew Yennelyn was plotting something he would not approve of her doing alone._

_The innkeeper and several helpful villagers pointed him toward a Dalish caravan. Cullen learned the Lady had offered to help with one of their kin who fell victim to a slave trader and was to be sold to an Orlesian noble. With directions and a description of the young elf, Cullen set out to find Yen._

_Cullen arrived at the Villa described to him as Yen lowered the young girl to the ground. Cullen pointed the young elf toward her clan and was about to help Yennelyn when the slave trader took exception to her interference and threatened to kill her. She planned to jump until he’d entered the Villa and removed the problem._   

_“I thought you would say no.” Yennelyn threaded her fingers through his._

_“Yen, ask me next time. You’d be surprised what I’ll agree to do.” He kissed her hand and let it go._

_“Cullen, I give you permission to ask Dorian – “ Yennelyn’s breath caught._

_He stood, kissed her forehead and held out his hand.  “Not having this conversation, time for us to go.”_

He exhaled and caught a familiar magic surround him.

Morrigan stood back in the shadows a soft voice met his ears. “Why did you allow her to bind you? Cullen, did you not realize the consequences? She has feelings for the other and does not acknowledge you.”

Cullen leaned back against the wall. “This was not her doing Morrigan. Help me find the assassin. Celene should not be left unguarded which means I need your help. If you planned to disrupt the talks and attack the Empress how would you enter the Palace?”

Morrigan’s eyes glowed as she thought of her options. “I would enter through the gardens, then through the servant’s quarters to gain access to the Palace unseen.”

He nodded. “Will you help? If you go you must stay hidden and be careful.”

“My dear Witcher, could it be you still care? I must confess on one hand I would prefer to leave here and let you fail, but it would serve no one and I must consider the consequences if I depart and Celene is harmed. To help myself I must help you succeed. I will return when I am able.”

Cullen stood guard and watched Yen continue her mission as she spoke with others in the Ballroom. She’d return often to Rylen or Leliana and Cullen suspected she was discovering information in her wanderings.

Cullen hid a smirk as Dorian moved through the ballroom towards his post.  “Mooning in the shadows? I can tell you there are at least a dozen courtiers working up the nerve to come here and talk with you; I will be the envy of many. If you continue to stare after her, you’ll scare away the lovely Orlesians.”

Cullen did not look at Dorian. “Morrigan is here. She’s the Arcane Advisor to the Empress.”

Dorian hid a smile. “Is she now - point her out. If I recall all you’ve told me I suspect dark hair and I remember you mentioned her eyes but I have noticed no one with magic skills in the ballroom or on the balcony.” Dorian thought carefully and spoke to Cullen in a quiet tone.  “Now there is a standoff I would pay to see- the princess and the witch. It sounds like one of those lamentable tales of woe the bards tell in taverns.”

Cullen shook his head. “Dorian, you aren’t here to annoy me, you are supposed to be support for Yennelyn.” Dorian crossed behind Cullen. “Do that again Dorian and I’ll give these people reason to leave me alone.”

Dorian stared back and smiled. “You win this time. Perhaps I should find this Morrigan and see what secrets she hides.”

Cullen returned to his post. “I stabbed her and shoved her through an Eluvian, Dorian. This was not a happy reunion. Now, time to go.” Cullen gestured for Dorian to move on and watched as he continued through the ballroom.

______________________________

Morrigan spied on Yennelyn as she climbed the trellis again. _So the Lady is not helpless as she would have Cullen believe._ She primed a weak charge in her right hand. _One well-placed hit above her hands and Yennelyn of Ostwick is no threat to anyone, least of all Cullen. I could end his torment with the binding magic and allow him to be the man he once was._ Morrigan hesitated.

_“Don’t you mean the man who once was yours, Girl?”_

Morrigan could hear the voice of Flemeth in her head – questioning her, taunting her.

“I no longer fear you, mother. I am not that eager girl. Begone.” Morrigan murmured and squelched the magic in her hand. “Cullen would realize ‘twas my magic that forced the slip. Would he act against me?”

_He pushes her roughly against the wall, hands groping freely she hears the dress tear from her shoulder but does not care. A moan leaves her as he presses his hips against her holding her in place, hot breath in her ear speaks in impassioned whispers and a solemn confession of love escapes her._

Her lust filled vision is interrupted by the sounds of an intruder. Morrigan’s senses found the cause - a figure clad in strange clothing. The diamond shaped pattern on the arms and legs reminiscent of a costume she once saw on a minstrel in a traveling troupe. The face painted white with exaggerated red eyes and grotesque lips drawn across the face. Dual blades slung to the hips. _This is my assassin,_ she thought.

The figure crept in the shadows unaware of the magic targeting their position. Morrigan unleashed a paralyzing hex; the figure froze and she moved without hesitation, grabbed a blade and slit the assassin’s throat.

“I will return to properly dispose of you.” Morrigan announced and searched the body she straightened as her hands found a key.

“Curious. How is it you have a key from the Winter Palace. . . ‘tis clear to me now, you are but the first and must give the rest entry. Then this is the work of one of the three – but which?” Morrigan pocketed the key and moved into the library entryway. Morrigan wondered if Celene’s fears were true – could Gaspard and his sister be plotting her demise or was it the elf Briala. She entered the library foyer and saw the hidden room accessed. Morrigan’s anger at the violation fanned the flames of her ever increasing annoyance at Yennelyn of Ostwick.

_The Lady opened my vault! Cullen be damned, I shall send this woman to find the force that waits in the gardens. Perhaps they will rid me of her and allow me to continue as I have planned._

Morrigan would give the key to Yennelyn. Let her bear the danger and the consequences. If Yennelyn met with injury or death it would not be at Morrigan’s hand. The solemn tone of a bell echoed through the palace halls. _First bell. I must make haste to catch the Lady._ Morrigan slipped into the passages known only to a select few and arrived in the vestibule in time to wait for Yennelyn to emerge. Just as the Lady passed, Morrigan swallowed a sneer and descended the stairwell to meet her rival.

_____________________________

Cullen grew increasingly impatient as neither Morrigan nor Yennelyn returned. He knew enough that any absence after three bells would be noticed. The second bell rang out clearly and guests poured through various doors into the ball room.

As the third bell rang, Yennelyn entered the ballroom and made her way towards the Inquisition’s advisers _. She has important news_. He watched as the discussion grew animated between them until Morrigan sauntered around the opposite way, the smirk on her face pulled the corners of his mouth taut. _She’s too pleased with herself, not good._ His grimace deepened as her eyes found his and she smiled at him. He groaned and shook his head. “Definitely not good.”

Morrigan opened her mouth to speak until Cullen cut her off with a gesture. “Morrigan, what have you done?”

She scoffed. “Why must you assume that I cause all misery? I helped the Lady Yennelyn. The assassin is dead, hidden on the upper floors for now, but there are more men in the gardens no doubt. I gave the Lady the key I found on the assassin, it leads to the Servant’s Quarters. She will no doubt take her companions and investigate.”

He fought the urge to grab her and instead spoke softly with controlled anger. “Next time don’t help, find me first.”

Surprised at his anger she decided it was best to be forthcoming with as much as she knew. Morrigan described the strange costume worn by the assassin and Cullen’s recognition sparked a response.

“Venatori. Someone on the inside is helping them, but who?” Cullen scanned the ballroom and saw Dorian, Cassandra and Varric congregate near the advisers.  He nodded in agreement with Yen’s choices for her scouting party.

Morrigan continued. “One of the three, no doubt. I will follow the Lady and help when needed.”

Cullen touched her arm to hold her back. “No. Stay with Celene, I don’t like how this developed. Have you searched the family wing or the stables?”

“There wasn’t time. Cullen, explain this.” Morrigan said.

“It begins. If I find no one I will return. Are you armed?” Morrigan showed she was not.

“I don’t need a weapon Cullen, but your agitation – ‘tis disturbing. What troubles you?” Morrigan had not seen this in Cullen before and it worried her.

Cullen squeezed her hand. “Let no one near Celene until I return, especially the three of them. If I am not back within the hour take Celene to safety.”

She opened her mouth to protest and her stopped her with his palm up facing her. “Please for once would you not argue with me?” Cullen would have to make due with the daggers he carried and without armor.

Morrigan pulled back on his elbow as he left. “You would go without armor and a true weapon? You are foolish and reckless. Enter Celene’s private room. The bookcase against the wall will slide when you push away from the door. Take the path to the first right. The next room to your left turn the lion’s head full right until it catches and then two full turns left. A tumbler will disengage. Armor and weapons stored for emergencies. The Empress will understand.”

Cullen took a step forward then turned back. “Trust only the Inquisition and if anyone else approaches I trust you can do more than just a light show.” He smirked and disappeared through the door as instructed.

Cullen had seen passages like these before in Tevinter mostly used as escape routes. This was something different. An entire compliment could be hidden within these passages and take control. He wondered if the Ambassador or the Empress’ family knew of its existence. If any of them did, this could be the point of gathering prior to an ambush. He hurried through the darkened halls to the door with the Valmont crest and turned the Lion’s head as directed. The sound of gears and latches releasing told him of his success. When the tumbler disengaged a single strong push led him into the hidden armory.

He chose a splint mail cuirass and shoulder plate. The harness was snug to his chest but would allow him to choose two swords and several throwing knives. He found greaves and a dark hood to hide his face and several supply packs for Yen. Cullen had to find Yen, remove the Venatori threat and return to Celene as quick as he could; he knew too much time away could force an additional attempt on the Empress.

Gears moved, a latch engaged and the door locked as he pull it closed behind him. Unsure of the direction to take he let his senses take the lead reaching out for magic in any form until a hum led him towards the right side. The vibration intensified as he picked up his pace angry red tendrils laced in violet and black. Necromancy. It was similar in style to Dorian but not his as the control was not as strong and not as deep as Dorian could command. “Venatori.” Cullen growled. The lackeys of the Elder One.

Cullen exited the passage into a garden maze where a small fountain pushed forward to allow him to enter the hidden corner. He could hear a battle some distance away and soon voices and sounds confirmed his suspicions. Varric bellowed several times as he dropped one attacker after the other. Cassandra’s battle cries cut through the night air as he tried to wind his way towards the sounds. Then he heard her.

“Help Dorian!” Yennelyn cried out.

“I’m too pretty to die!” Dorian exclaimed.

Cullen decided it was better to face the wrath of Celene for destroyed shrubbery than to risk injury to the Inquisition. He sliced through the maze until he leapt into the battle.

Dorian stood with some effort. “It’s about bloody time you stopped messing about with that witch and did something!” Dorian yelped.

Yennelyn turned to look at Cullen but he pushed her behind him and joined Cassandra she faced three warriors. Cullen cut the first down with a single swipe right and charged the second knocking him to the ground. Cassandra, meanwhile, cleaved the third separating his neck and shoulder.

She took a deep breath and then chastised him. “You should guard the Empress, Cullen.”

Cullen stood ready waiting for the next wave. “She is guarded, the Venatori have already infiltrated the palace. Get inside and clear the rooms -  I will clear the garden. “

Cassandra nodded and directed the party to move. As Dorian passed him Cullen threw the packs at him. “Potions. They were for Yen, but sounds like you were the one in trouble. Less flourish, more accuracy.”

Dorian cursed in Tevene and Cullen laughed only prompting further grumbling from the mage as he joined the others.

Cullen hoped Morrigan would protect Celene until he could return.

Leliana, Josephine and Rylen did not remain idle as the Inquisitor and her party worked their way through the palace against the Venatori forces.

Rylen moved to the Vestibule to speak with two of his captains for confirmation the soldiers were ready when signaled and then he returned to his place in the Ballroom. Leliana moved about the room using the information Yennelyn discovered to buy favor and support while Josephine kept vigil gathering information from scouts and others as confirmation of the altercations in the garden reached her ears. Cullen’s absence was noted, but the appearance of a woman by the Empress’ side confirmed Leliana’s intelligence of an Arcane Advisor. Josephine noted earlier Cullen’s familiarity with the woman and hoped her assumption of a possible ally was correct.

Cullen cleared out the main garden and found a contingent of elves moved into strategic positions. He could learn from one of them Briala ordered her people to take up posts throughout the area to allow Cullen to return inside. He’d left the armor in the passage but kept the harness and swords. Cullen was sure more would come but still wondered how much the Elven Ambassador should be trusted.

Morrigan’s surprise when Cullen emerged from the room was echoed in the Empress’ face. His careful movements onto the balcony did not indicate the current situation to the guests. Leliana’s cautious gaze watched as Cullen spoked to the Empress and throughout the conversation there was no indication of any acknowledgement to his works with the exception of a single practiced nod.

Meanwhile, the Ballroom stood riveted to the dance between Grand Duchess Florianne and the Inquisitor.

Leliana’s eyes focused on Morrigan as she left the company of the Empress and disappeared into the shadows beyond the balcony. There were too many players to know who could be trusted and she hoped to speak with Cullen as soon as possible to discover what he learned but before she could move, Yennelyn left the Ballroom floor and joined her advisers.

The small group congregating near the railing drew Cullen’s attention. _She’s safe -  for now._ He thought.

Yennelyn shared everything she learned and listened to the advice offered. She had to enter the Royal Wing as soon as possible. Josephine would do her best for access, but the group was unaware the Empress extended permission for Morrigan to unlock the doors after Cullen shared all he witnessed in the garden. Yennelyn felt eyes on her and she shifted uncomfortably. She looked to Rylen first, but he engaged in debate with the others.

Her eyes searched the room to find the offending gaze. Cullen stood alone leaning on the rail of the balcony his eyes fixed on her. He moved as someone from behind Cullen caught his attention. Rylen spoke once and then again to tear her attention from the Witcher.

Cullen saw only the reflection of light in Morrigan’s eyes. “You frighten her, you know.”  She offered.

He sighed. “I know. Every time I try to leave I get pulled back into this – whatever it is. The caster agreed to remove the binding after we take care of the problem.”

Morrigan moved to the light. “Why not now? I fail to see the reason to wait. Look at you, bound to a woman who fears you perhaps even reviles you and yet you stay?”

“We are working to save Celene and restore order and when the night is over you can fly off to torment your next victim.” Cullen knew he was harsh, but he’d had enough of her.

Her anger bloomed again. “’Twas not I who held the dagger and stabbed, Witcher. ‘Twas not my blade that severed us – remember that.”

The tension between them would eventually need to be addressed but Cullen was not here to fix the past. “Morrigan, there is no us. Let’s finish this and you can have your revenge until then, not another word.”

Cullen caught Leliana’s movement through the Ballroom. The two converged and Cullen did not hide his frustration. “ _We_ need to talk about information flow. It would have been nice to know what I was walking into before getting attacked and now hounded by Morrigan.”

Leliana tried a positive tone. “She’s helped us so far.”

Cullen leaned closer and kept his voice low. “Helped? Leliana, I’m not . . . where is  
Yen?”

He listened as Leliana recounted the discoveries and information uncovered by Yennelyn including the warnings given by Duchess Florianne imparted during a strange dance.

Cullen stopped. “Yen danced with Florianne? I have never seen Yennelyn dance, shame I missed it.”

“I am sure we can arrange something another time.” Leliana said. “We’re a little concerned Gaspard will make a move soon. I know I need not ask, but be ready.”

Leliana continued to express her concerns surrounding Gaspard while Cullen brought up the Ambassador.  Briala proved her intent centered on the work needed to strengthen the elves position in Orlais and both agreed Celene with Briala’s support could be a strong and solid leader for all Orlais.  

“Where is Florianne?” He realized her absence bothered him.

Leliana pointed towards the Ballroom floor. “She’s right. . . she was right there when Yennelyn joined us. Did we miss her take the private entrances here?”

Cullen looked back to see Celene on the balcony. “Have Rylen get his men ready. Celene may not be Gaspard’s only target.” A slight nod and Leliana returned to her fellow advisers.

Cullen stepped onto the balcony and approached the Empress. “Your Radiance.” He began.

“Speak plain, Cullen.” She waived the guards to block the door.

He inhaled slowly and contemplated his words. “Gaspard, we are almost sure.  Florianne is missing and the Inquisition has gathered proof and readies to offer aid.”

Celene nodded.

“Your lady has proven a worthy ally and has Our full support.” The usual joviality disappeared from Celene’s voice. “Once again you surprise Us _Ser Rutherford_.”

“ _Your Radiance_ , the night is not over.” Cullen bowed and sent the guards back to their positions flanking the doors.  He stood in the center of the doors, his presence daring any to step forward to challenge him.

Cullen’s ears caught the rustle of fabric as the Empress stood behind him. “We offer a trade. If the Witcher would kindly cease to call Us _Your Radiance_ an address We despise, We will cease to call the Witcher _Ser Rutherford_.”

“As you wish, Imperial Majesty.” Cullen replied.

Cullen took the swish of fabric to mean the conversation was over but the Empress continued. “How is it King of Ferelden puts up with such cheek?” He knew better than to answer and returned his focus to the guests. He knew the location of Gaspard and Briala both on opposite sides of the ballroom and Morrigan to his left. He saw the commotion at the door to the Vestibule before Morrigan pointed it out. “Stay with Celene.”

Yennelyn glared at Florianne but moved swiftly to Rylen and Leliana. After a few words, Rylen disappeared. Leliana turned to face Cullen. She inclined her head once towards him and then faced Florianne and did the same.

Cullen crossed his arms and followed the Grand Duchess as she walked through the Ballroom. Gone was the previous confidence she carried through the evening and her eyes shifted from side to side as if some unknown predator hunted her.

Celene approached Cullen from behind and he moved aside. He hid a smile as Yennelyn walked towards the receiving balcony with all the confidence and strength he knew she possessed.  Morrigan stayed out of sight but he could feel her magic primed as he waited for the details to be revealed to all.

_________________________

The aftermath of the affair was not as exciting; Florianne surrendered and would be executed as would her brother Gaspard. Yennelyn helped Briala and the Empress to agree to work together for Orlais. 

Cullen hoped to speak with Yen before he left once again to continue his search for Corypheus.  He watched as she walked alone to a side balcony and moved to speak with her in private. “Lady Trevelyan, a word?”

Yennelyn smiled and nodded. Cullen continued. “I’m leaving, but I wanted to relay to you the Empress considers you and the Inquisition as allies. You’ve done well. I thought you should know.” 

Yennelyn’s face flushed. _She never could take a compliment._ Cullen dropped his head to the right and smiled.

_“Cullen. Stop looking at me like that, it’s making me nervous!” Yen flushed again and let a nervous laugh escape. The way he stared at her as though she was the only woman in all of Thedas was overwhelming and yet so alluring she’d agree to whatever he wanted if she did not stop him now._

_“Good nervous like ‘I hope he takes the armor off and stays for a while, but I’m worried my smalls aren’t as fresh as they should be?’ Yennelyn sent a shock of magic to his hand. “Ouch! Come on Yen, I’m teasing!”_

_“Yes but you are doing so at my expense again, Cullen.” Yennelyn retorted._

_Cullen’s hand reached out for her waist and guided her backwards to him. “That’s the point of teasing. I’m serious, Yen, I can stay for a while.”_

_Yennelyn shivered as moved her hair aside and nestled his lips and chin against her neck. She purred his name and leaned back into him. “Cullen.”_

“Cullen?” Yennelyn’s flush deepened. “When you look at me, who do you see? Dorian told me of your love. You should not fix your attention on me and I would . . . prefer if you exercised a little discretion.”

He held his smile. _If you only knew._ “Forgive me, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Your love Cullen, is she. . .is she in the Fade?” Yennelyn asked.

“No, she’s lost and I hope she finds her way back but it seems it may not happen.” Cullen replied. “I should give you time to rest, my Lady.”  Cullen retreated and kept moving even after Yennelyn called after him.

Dorian leaned against the rail opposite the balcony talking with Varric. “It might interest you to know that the princess did well. She’s getting quite good with the daggers Rylen gave her but she’s most likely to skewer either you or me when she gains her memory. Prepare now for the inexorable meltdown.”

Varric’s eyes widened. “Inexorable – Sparkler just when I think you are as pompous as is possible you throw in a great word like that.”

Dorian grinned. “You liked that? I’ll let you purchase the use of my considerable vocabulary, Varric. On second thought, I’d give every last coin to find out what those two will say to one another.” Dorian pointed to Morrigan as she walked to meet Yennelyn on the balcony.

Varric stepped away from the railing and looked back at Cullen. “Was that. . .I thought she was dead? That’s what you told me, Curly.”

The cough meant to hide Dorian’s laugh failed.

“Looks like I was wrong.” Cullen said. “What’s one more pissed off woman?”

 “Well I can add one more to the list for you, Curly.” Varric offered. “I’m supposed to remind you again to read your damn letters before you go off looking for someone right under your damned nose.”

Cullen remembered Hawke’s letters. He had two of them now. “I’ll read them while I look for her, Varric.”

Varric sighed. “Hawke knows you better than you think. She’s at Skyhold in case you’re wondering and no doubt pissed at you by now.”

 _Get in line, Hawke_. Cullen thought as his eyes followed Morrigan leave Yennelyn and pass by the scornful gaze of Commander Rylen. Varric and Dorian vanished before Morrigan reached Cullen. 

“Do I want to know?” Cullen asked.

Morrigan scoffed. “We will have to postpone our final battle, Cullen. I am to assist the Inquisition in their endeavors.”

Cullen’s attention moved to the balcony as Rylen bowed and offered his hand to Yennelyn. He rolled his eyes as the two danced around the balcony together.

The scene was not missed by Morrigan. “How sweet, the Lady seems to have a new protector. Whatever will the Lion do?”

___________________________                                     

The squawk of the large black bird next to Cullen added to his irritation as Leliana pretended to look for a letter she received. “No more games. Give me the highlights.”

“King Alistair wishes to see you in Denerim. He is requesting two specific contracts now that Hawke arrived and will help the Inquisition.” Leliana held out her arm and the bird flapped its wings and landed on the offered limb. She grasped the bird’s jesses and walked the creature with care to a waiting perch.

“I wasn’t aware Hawke agreed to do anything . . . yet.” Cullen said.

Leliana turned back towards Cullen. “She has, in a way. Alistair believes the Venatori have infiltrated the palace in Denerim.” Cullen stood and rushed towards the stairwell.

“Cullen, wait! There’s another contract. Cassandra would like you to accompany her to Therinfal Redoubt. We aren’t sure what is there, but the Seekers asked for Alistair’s permission to investigate and he prefers you take charge. Take a small group. I would suggest either Dorian or Vivienne and Cole.”

“I’ll take Dorian and Cole. If Vivienne gives you any trouble, Morrigan is in the garden.” Cullen offered. “I believe our friend would be happy to assist.”

She laughed. “Perhaps if Morrigan keeps Vivienne busy she’ll stay out of your way as well?”

He had not considered Leliana’s observation, but if he remained in Skyhold the diversion would be helpful. “Doesn’t matter, I leave for Denerim tonight. I’ll send a message where the others should meet with me.” Cullen left Leliana at her desk and hurried to one last meeting before leaving for Denerim.

Cullen wondered if Skyhold could hold all three women who now occupied its space. _Yennelyn, Morrigan and Hawke. Only one of the three I can trust right now._ Cullen knew where Marian Hawke would wait to meet with him.

The Rest was empty this early in the morning, but the laughter and conversation filling the space let Cullen know he’d found her.  Varric and Dorian, overtaken by laughter watched Hawke as she recounted a story complete with exaggerated gestures and voices. Cullen smirked and took advantage of her preoccupation with her story to sneak up behind her.

She was oblivious to his slow creep towards her and if Varric and Dorian cared they said nothing.

She laughed throughout her story. “So the stench is so bad and here is Varric smiling while the rest of us are trying to pretend that we don’t smell like shit that’s been baking in the sun at low tide and this Templar comes up and  - mind you -his eyes are watering a few feet away from us and he says – “

Cullen moved in close and touched her waist as he whispered in her ear. “Mmm, Marion. Did you miss me?” Her body shivered without her consent.

Varric rolled his eyes at Hawke’s shiver. “It’s the voice. That’s how he does that.” Varric tried to mimic Cullen’s speech. “Marion. Did you miss me?”  He shook his head. “Nope. Not going to happen.”

Hawke wheeled around and punched Cullen’s arm. “You have kept me waiting for days! I should beat that smirk off your face.”

“Another time, Hawke. Tell me what’s going on.”

She sobered and flopped into a chair, throwing her feet atop the table. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear from you, tell me what you think!


	9. Wrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen must race to Denerim to prevent the Venatori from attempting to harm King Alistair and his queen. Something waits for the Witcher in Ferelden; events unfold around him and Cullen heads toward an adversary that knows his weakness.

_“Cullen, never touch another man's crossbow.” Varric warned._

_Hawke snorted. “Varric, not everyone wants Bianca.”_

_Varric scoffed. “Who wouldn’t?”_

_Cullen whispered to his companions. “We are attempting to get into this mansion without waking all of Hightown,” he admonished both of them. “So we are clear, Bianca in my hands for even a moment or two and she’ll never go back.”_

_Hawke’s laughter threatened to give their position away to the Templars on patrol._

_Cullen tapped the dwarf on the shoulder. “Varric you have ten seconds to open that door or I will and it will not be silent.”_

_Varric went to work on the lock while Hawke watched for any Templars that might discover them out after curfew. Cullen turned back to Varric. “Five seconds, Varric, I thought you could handle simple locks?” The lock disengaged and Varric opened the door._

_Hawke pushed them through the doorway. “Three Templars headed this way -  come on, move.” She closed the door behind her. “You two need to be quieter.” She snickered, moving further into the empty home. Cullen shook his head disbelieving Hawke’s denial of her own involvement._

_Varric laughed as he spoke. “Now you know why Fenris didn’t want to come with us.”_

_“Varric for the record, Fenris thought Anders would help and so he declined. The problem is the little boy from Lowtown is ill again otherwise Anders would be here.”_

_“Time to explain why we are here, Hawke.” Cullen said. “I’m not used to breaking into homes without a reason.”_

_The two turned and faced Cullen with similar looks of disbelief. “Right, Cullen.” Varric started. “So killing creepy things and demons and chasing after contracts on creatures and people for money is allowed but breaking into a house? Not so much. Well, shit. What good is having a Witcher along if we can’t break the law?”_

_Cullen held up his hand. “Because there are four or five Shades in this house and they are heading this way.”_

_“Shit, demons . . .there’s something new.” Varric’s sarcasm died out as the Shades converged in the foyer. “Hey Cullen? I got the door. It’s your turn!”_

_“I don’t know Varric, if Bianca sees you can’t handle such a basic demon she may decide her place is with me.” Cullen met Hawke’s eyes and winked._

_Varric puffed out his chest and stepped forward. “Not a chance, Cullen. Let’s go.”_

_Hawke held in her laughter at Varric’s new found courage. Cullen shrugged drawing his blade._

She continued to mimic Varric’s stance and laughed. “After that it was constant contest, who had the higher kill count. Charming of course, but good for entertainment.”

“Hawke, I don’t sound like that at all and I never puff out my chest.” Varric dropped back in his chair.

Cullen tried to join Hawk through the laughter and her teasing of Varric but her news bothered him. _We can’t sit here._ “Hawke, we should not wait for the advisers to decide what to do. Take Solas, Bull and Varric with Yen to see your Warden friend.”

Varric leaned in. “What about Blackwall?”

“Not a good idea. We don’t want to risk losing Blackwall to this when we don’t have enough information. He’ll understand if Yen talks to him.” Cullen was concerned the Inquisition would lose their link to the Warden. “Blackwall has helped considerably from what I understand and I believe he should be protected.”

Hawke glanced at Varric. “If I didn’t know you my friend, I would think _you_ lead this campaign.”

“No, that is merely Cullen’s Witcher superiority where even a question is delivered as a command.” Dorian offered. “So, _Commander Cullen,_ where am I in your plans?”

Cullen twisted his torso towards Dorian. “You are traveling to Denerim with me. We’ll meet up with Cassandra and Cole afterwards. It would seem there are Venatori in the royal palace.”

Orlais survived the assassination attempt of the Empress and now Ferelden could face the same danger. Cullen would not allow Solona and Alistair to be harmed. “Time to go Dorian.” Cullen hurried towards the exit. When he turned to see Dorian still seated at the table Cullen glared. “Now!”

Varric grabbed Dorian’s wrist as he stood to follow. “Sparkler, don’t go without help.” He pointed upstairs. “Take the kid with you.”

Dorian nodded and took the steps two at a time.

_______________________

Cullen stepped out into the afternoon as a light wind moved through the courtyard. He inhaled and caught scent of her:  lemon, vervain, rosemary and hint of lavender _. Yen is nearby._

_She sat at the vanity, combing her fingers through her wet hair, bare curves calling to him from across the room._

_“Yen, clothes.” Cullen, dressed in his smalls and trousers did not move from his seat on the bed._

_She laughed and the sound of her roused his senses, ignited his longing to have her again._

_Her tone warned him - she knew his thoughts. “Cullen, no, we just finished our bath. A little control please.”_

_He laughed as he crept towards her._

_“Cullen, I mean it.” Yennelyn giggled as she protested each advance. “This is not funny.”_

_He moved his fingers in slow glide along her shoulders, tracing a faint line across her back. “Why are you laughing, Yen?” He knew the light contact with her sent blissful vibrations through them both. He bent his head towards her ear. “So. Keep going or exercise control – you choose.”_

_He smiled. He could feel her need, smell it. Yen belonged with him._

_“We’ll be late.” She inhaled sharply as his hands crested her shoulders and drifted towards her breasts. Her head fell back against him._

_“Let them wait.”_

Cullen followed her scent to the stairs leading from the Rest and up and out along the ramparts. Cullen’s small act of defiance since arriving in Skyhold had been to procure the perfumed oils from Orlais with Leliana’s help. The thought of her continuing to wear the scent gave him something to keep his memories of her from fading away.  He smiled as he remembered a night when she found a small dram of her perfume in his pack.

_“Cullen, what’s this?” Yennelyn held up the small vial._

_He looked over his shoulder and saw her holding the glass vial of her perfume he’d taken. He felt a slight embarrassment over the discovery. He didn’t use it, the vial carried her scent, and he found comfort in the memories it invoked._

_“It’s nothing,” he said in hopes she’d replace it and move on. “Just something I like to carry with me.”_

_Cullen stoked the fire and paused as he heard the stopper pulled from is place._

_“Why do you have a dram of my perfume in your pack, Cullen?” Yennelyn’s grin grew as he turned to face her. “I think it’s adorable.”_

_“Yen, nothing I do is ‘adorable’, having it is a comfort that’s all.” He flicked his eyes in her direction and looked down._

_Yennelyn tried to move her head to catch his eyes and smiled. “So you do care.” She gently placed her arms around his waist. “I love you, you know that, right?”_

_He lifted her chin and brushed his lips against hers. “Yen, of course I care, always will.”_

He pushed the door open leading to the corner tower while the memory of her lingered in his thoughts; Cullen stumbled upon a scene he’d dreaded but continued to watch the two people in disbelief.

Yennelyn stood at the far end of the ramparts with Rylen.  His heart dropped as she smiled at the Commander in the same way she’d looked at Cullen since they first met in Rivain. He cringed as the pair kissed. He tried to reassure himself. _This is what you wanted remember? A life for her without you or the burden of who she was._ He closed the door in front of him and stumbled forward. 

Cullen descended the steps his thoughts fixed on betrayal and the expanding hole in his chest. He did not hear Dorian call after him as hurried down the stairs. There was one way to forget his feelings at least for a time. He nodded to the Horse Master who disappeared inside the stable. Shade found his rider and waited as Cullen boosted himself up. _Denerim first._ “Let’s go Shade.” The horse cantered through the gate area and took the best route out of the Frostbacks toward Denerim.

Dorian and Cole arrived in time to see Cullen ride off through the gate. “Kaffas!” Dorian turned around to see Cole was gone. Dorian would need to decide: follow Cullen to Denerim if that was his destination or let him go. Cassandra joined Dorian.

“I wanted to accompany you to Denerim, but I see that Cullen left without you.” She offered.

Cole approached with three horses. “We need these and we have to hurry. He’s hunting.”

“Cole, what do you mean he’s hunting” Cassandra asked as she climbed onto her horse.

Dorian checked his pack and staff were secure. “Cole means, someone has his smalls in a twist and he’s off looking for something bigger than he is to work out whatever the issue is, Lady Cassandra. We’ll be riding through Ferelden, so bears, wolves . . . oh yes, he has a particular fondness for giant spiders.”

The trio rode off hoping to catch up with Cullen on the road to Denerim.

_“You’re staring.” She burrowed deeper into the pillows._

_He pulled he blanket away from her face. “Admiring the view.”_

_She pulled the corner over her face again. “Cullen, you’re ruining my mystique and I’m cold.” She took a deep breath as his hands wrapped around her waist. He guided her hips around to face him. “Cullen, I would like to rest for a little while.”_

_“Yen, I can touch you without lovemaking. Hush and rest.” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead to hers._

_Another deep breath, her exhale slow and relaxed. “I love you,” she breathed._

_Cullen kissed her forehead. “I’ve got you. Hush.”_  
  
  
\--------

Cullen had three days before he reached Denerim.  “Plenty of time.” Cullen looked for conflict on the road but found none. In this solitude, Cullen’s thoughts drifted to Tevinter and Acacius.

_“Void take you, Cullen get up!” Acasius Fortix, Cullen’s trainer and handler built his Witchers by stripping them of all their desires, determination and compassion. Cullen recited the Chant to himself as they sparred which only enraged Acasius further. Cullen’s fortitude and mental strength chafed against Acasius’ training methods which meant Cullen was often ridiculed and beaten by him._

_“One more word. one more piece of those ridiculous lies and I will guarantee you will not be able to speak for a week.”_

_Cullen’s vision narrowed, and he focused on Acasius._ They are not lies _. He thought_. I will best you, the Maker will show the way. _Cullen readied his sword and circled his opponent._

_Acasius, thirty years older than Cullen trained the Black Guards, Witchers and assassins in Tevinter and was widely considered to be the deadliest man in all of Thedas. His face bore a lifetime of scars, each a sign of a harsh won victory against his foes. Acasius did not believe a Templar like Cullen would ever be a Witcher. He hated the Templar Order and Cullen was an extension of the Order and in this hatred Acasius called for Cullen’s termination. The Archon himself forbade any action against the Ferelden effectively preventing the trainer from using many of his harsh training methods used to enforce obedience._

_Cullen was unmarked, his flesh unscarred. He stood before his tormenter and intoned the words to incite his ruin._

_“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter!” Cullen’s voice rang out in the courtyard and he tightened his grip on his sword to wait for the first blow._

_Acasius’ age was no sign of his abilities. His agility and strength were prepared for Cullen’s challenge. He spun to his right and Acasius connected with Cullen’s sword. Acasius’ growled when Cullen blocked the blow and slammed his full body weight back into his trainer sending the man into a backwards stagger._

_“Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just!” Cullen dipped his head lower his chin closer to his chest. His eyes focused on Acasius’ feet and rose slowly to meet his eyes. The smirk that followed infuriated his trainer._

_“I am tired of your defiance, Cullen. You are not worthy to follow the Path.” Acasius raised his sword and charged at Cullen.  The younger man sidestepped and sliced his sword at the older as he passed. The red bloom on Acasius’ tunic did not lie. Cullen landed a significant hit._

_“Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.” Cullen openly defied his mentor. “You are no longer needed, I have the strength and the guidance of the only one I will ever need.”_

_The two met blow for blow but it was Cullen’s blade that claimed the prize in each contest. Acasius lunged with curses flying from spittle fleck lips. Cullen spun left and sliced his blade through the air. “In their blood the Maker’s will is written.”  Dorian and Alexius ran into the courtyard to see Acasius fall to his knees blood flowing from the precise slice of his neck._

_At first, Dorian thought he was mistaken, this was just another sparring match between the two men. The spreading pool of blood confirmed Dorian’s fear. The trainer would not rise again. Dorian’s shock prevented him from approaching Cullen or Acasius and his wide-eyed gaze looked to Cullen for an explanation._

_Cullen said nothing but wiped his blade clean and returned it to his harness. “Dorian, I think I’ll pass on today’s lessons.” He turned away and breathed deeply several times._

_Alexius found his voice. “What do you think you are doing Cullen?”_

_Cullen did not face Alexius. “Taking control.” The malice laced words forced Alexius to take a step back._

_Dorian looked sideways at Alexius. He would have to help Cullen escape sooner than planned. Acasius’ death would present a problem.  “I will talk with Cullen, perhaps some help to clean up the mess?” Dorian tried to keep his voice controlled and even._

_Alexius nodded and left the two men alone._

_“Cullen.” Dorian hissed. “Have you taken leave of your senses? There is no tale to spin -you killed him. Take Shade through the garden wall passage tonight to Antiva or Rivain, I don’t know when I might join you or if I ever will. Do you have the names of the contacts I shared with you?”_

_Dorian waited for a response but Cullen remained silent._

_“Cullen! Yes, or no, do you know where you are going and who you should seek for help?”_

_Dorian took a step back as Cullen faced him. “I won’t hurt you, Dorian and yes I have all the information I need. Will you be able to get the book for me?”_

_The mage sighed. “Yes, right away. I will leave it near the hidden door. Cullen I- “_

_“You should go back inside. I’ll wait and return to collect my things and a bag. Get the book and then make sure people in the villa see and hear you.” Cullen directed._

_“I should go with you. There’s nothing for me here in Tevinter. I could help you.” Dorian worried this was the end of their friendship. He’d grown accustomed to his time spent with Cullen._

_“See you around, Dorian.” Cullen said, leaving Dorian to watch him walk away towards the stables._  
  
___________

 

Cullen nursed a drink at the Gull in Redcliffe Village waiting for Dorian to catch up to him. _Dorian knows I won’t push Shade to ride on after clearing the mountains._ Cullen returned to his memories.

Acasius’ death, although unfortunate, provided Cullen the opportunity to leave Tevinter. What Dorian and Yen and those closest to him could never understand was the loss of ten years of his life. Nineteen years old and his body and face aged in that transformation. Cullen’s only comfort came from the Chant and the Maker; he hid his faith after leaving Tevinter because it was easier to pretend to be what was expected of him. Only one person ever saw through the deception.

 _In the long hours of the night_  
_When hope has abandoned me,_  
_I still see the stars and know_  
_Your Light remains._

_Cullen heard her footfalls as she approached, but her perfumed soap gave her away. “Leliana, I prefer to be left alone.” He said. Cullen knelt at the fire pit with Sid, the mabari hound next to him._

_She joined him at the fire although kept a small distance away. “That mabari prefers you to all of us, Cullen, I wonder why that is so?” She asked._

_He pulled his legs out from under and adjusted his position. Sid moved closer. “No mystery here, Leliana. My body runs hotter than even our friend here.” Cullen patted Sid’s flank. “He’s just using me to keep warm.” He watched her face react to a conversation within her. “More questions, Leliana?”_

_She looked over and flashed a slight smile. “This is not the first occasion I have heard you recite, Cullen. How is it you know the words and how can someone raised outside the Chantry . . .” Leliana stopped as Cullen’s face darkened. “I did not mean to offend you. I am sorry.”_

_The stigma and fear of others for the creature that wore his face would take time to ignore. “You didn’t offend me. I wasn’t born to be a Witcher. I’m Ferelden and trained in the Order. Although it doesn’t matter now.”_

_Leliana moved closer and whispered. “You’re a Templar? I don’t understand.”_

_Cullen placed his hand on the ground. “Sit, please.”_

___________

Dorian dropped into a chair across from Cullen. “If you think to drown in that mug, we’ll never arrive in Denerim.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you going to tell me or shall I guess?”

“Keep your theories to yourself, we leave before dawn.” Cullen responded.

Dorian did not move. “A question for you. Hawke cringed when she met Yen and when I asked why both she and Varric said-”

Cullen closed his eyes for a moment. “I owe you that story, but not now. I need a favor, Dorian.”

The chair creaked as Dorian smiled and leaned back. “A diversion with King Alistair? He’s likely to see through that, my friend.”

There was a time where Cullen wanted time with Solona whenever he could, this was not what he needed. “Cassandra will protect Alistair at all costs and overlook Solona. If the threat is real, promise me you will watch over her.”

With a furrowed brow, Dorian shook his head. “When will it end? Solona, Yennelyn and now Morrigan? There is nothing left for you.”

Cullen grinned. “Yes, mother. Dorian you have the wrong idea. You’ve never met Alistair. He’d forego his own safety for Sol, but he’s Ferelden’s king; I can’t convince him to let us handle the problem without assurances.” Cullen smirked and continued. “Oh and I’m touched that you care, Dorian.”

“Smug bastard. Fine, I’ll keep your precious little king and queen safe while you have all the fun.” Dorian agreed.

“Think of it this way, you’ll be the first from the Imperium to establish relations with Ferelden.” Cullen offered.

He considered Cullen’s words. “I was hoping for something a little more interesting; perhaps stories of your travels with them, apart from the stories I already know.”

Cassandra dragged Cole over to Cullen’s table. “What stories?” Cole asked.

Dorian pulled out a chair for Cassandra and pulled another over for Cole. “Cole, Cullen once bested over a thousand darkspawn in the Battle of Denerim.” Dorian’s eyes wide with excitement he recounted the tale. “There he stood, a lone Witcher at the base of Fort Drakon with an entire legion of darkspawn converging to his position. He stood in defiance to allow the Wardens a chance to race to the top the face the Archdemon.”

Cole looked down at his hands. “No he didn’t.” Cole mumbled.

Cassandra shook her head. “No Cole, it’s true. I’ve heard the story many times.”

The boy did not look up. “That’s not how it happened.”

Cullen nodded in agreement. “He’s right. I was in the tower with the Wardens, I didn’t face a thousand darkspawn alone. Alistair passed that story around. There were hundreds of men and far too many darkspawn, but I fought in the tower with the Wardens.”

“And the Archdemon.” Cole offered.

Cassandra leaned forward. She loved stories and tales and this one had her full attention. “You fought the Archdemon?”

“He killed it.” Cole said.

Cassandra and Dorian disagreed. “No Cole, the Hero killed the Archdemon.”

Cullen hid a smile. Cole pointed at Cullen and looked to the others. “He did.”

Dorian slapped his hand on the table and the sound reminded him to lower his voice. “Andraste’s tits, you did - didn’t you? There was no rampaging horde, you killed the bloody Archdemon.”

The Witcher explained. “Solona and Morrigan were overpowered and I could not risk Alistair or Solona sacrificing themselves to defeat the Archdemon so, I took care of the problem.”

Cole continued his quiet commentary. “It was a dragon, nothing I haven’t done before.”

Cullen spoke kindly to Cole. “That’s enough for tonight, I think.”

Cole nodded. “All right. I hope she finds her way back to you.”

“Me too, Cole.” Cullen confessed.  

________________________________

When the party arrived in Denerim, they were ushered into Alistair’s study or more correctly Cullen was dragged into Alistair’s study and the others waited in an anteroom.

Alistair pulled out parchments and documents. “The Empress sent along some information retrieved by her guards. Apparently there are agents here, but we are unsure where to look, Cullen take Sol somewhere safe.”

The door crashed open. “You are not getting rid of me Ali and that’s final!”  Cullen took in the appearance of his friend. She was pissed off and pregnant.

“Hi, Sol. Been busy I see.” Cullen chuckled.

Solona’s anger had a new target. “I wouldn’t smile just yet, Cullen. You need a strong lesson in etiquette and how to act when representing Ferelden in another court. Really? Cheek and attitude to the Empress? I’m disappointed in you.”

Shocked at the tirade unleashed at him Cullen turned to Alistair who shrugged and shook his head. “Just nod.” Alistair whispered.

Dorian decided it was time to intervene to allow Cullen to search for the Venatori.  He stepped inside and cleared his throat.

Cullen took Dorian’s cue. “Your Majesties, may I present Dorian Pavus of - “

Dorian took over. “Dorian Pavus of House Pavus, from the Imperium, at your service. I must apologize for Ser Rutherford’s deplorable manners, there is only so much one can do. Please allow me to make amends.” He bowed with such flourish and pomp, Cullen feared Dorian would injure himself.

Alistair and Cullen took advantage of Dorian’s interruption to talk. Cullen would search and take Cassandra and Cole with him while Dorian remained with Alistair and Solona.

Cullen slipped out of the room and into the hall with Cassandra and Cole at his heels. “Searching will take too long. We’re looking for a group who can keep to themselves and not draw too much notice.”

An attendant carrying a tray with food tried to move past Cullen into the room where Alistair and Solona waited. The man did not make eye contact but as Cullen was about to give the man room to pass Cole touched Cullen’s arm and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. 

Cullen inclined his head toward Cole and spoke to attendant in Tevene. “Na via lerno victoria” (“ _Only the living know victory”)._ The attendant dropped his tray and ran.   Cullen gave chase and followed him to the kitchens. 

Six men waited for Cullen, four of them mages. The first blast of ice missed his head. Cassandra and Cole stood behind Cullen. “Cassandra, trade places with Dorian, I need him here.”  Cullen heard Cole’s voice behind him as another ice blast bounced off the shield from Cullen’s Quen sign.

“I’ll go, the other two have blades.” Cullen moved further into the room and flashed the Ignii sign sending a blast of flame towards the mages.  Cullen advanced and caught the first mage off guard as he sliced up and to the right sending a splatter of blood against the wall. The mage staggered and Cullen’s sword connected and the mage flopped to the floor. The others moved to circle him, but Cullen sent an Axii sign to the mage closest to him. Cullen’s sign gave him a mage ally until Dorian arrived. The compulsion to aid the Witcher confounded the Venatori mage as he froze his fellows against his will. The horror and realization of his stolen will showed in the fear and confusion on the mage’s face.

“Scraping the bottom I see.” Dorian’s voice rang out in the small room amidst the clanging of Cassandra’s sword as she tangled with a Venatori swordsman and Cullen’s growl to intimidate the two mages in front of him.    

Dorian’s fireball connected with the two mages and caught Cullen in the crossfire. “Dorian! Less flourish and _more accuracy_! Damn that stings.” Cullen complained. “Don’t help me . . . help Cassandra.”

Cullen turned his attention back to the mages and swung his sword around. “Never fought in close quarters I see,” he taunted as thin lines of red seeped through the tunics of his opponents.

Dorian rolled his eyes.  “Cullen less cheek, more fighting please!”

Cullen swung his sword again and detached the head of one mage. It bounced as it hit the stone floor.

“Show off.” Dorian muttered.

Cassandra scoffed. “Would you two children please stop and finish this! How can you joke around like this!”

Cullen laughed as the next mage fell as he hacked right and left before severing the mage’s head.

“This kitchen will never be useful again if you keep painting it in blood, Cullen.” Dorian yelled.

Dorian and Cassandra brought down the last swordsman leaving the final mage alive. Cullen renewed his Axii sign. “Tell me who sent you.”

The mage said nothing fueling Cullen’s anger. He gripped the mage by the neck and spoke the words again. “Tell me . . .who . . .sent you.”

Solona and Alistair stood at the kitchen entrance flanked by guards. She spoke softly to him. “Cullen, let him go.” She knew that without intervention Cullen’s need to protect both her and Alistair might cloud his reason. Leliana hoped for more information from these cultists.

The mage responded in a strained voice “Er. . .i . . .mond.” Cullen released the man and stepped back as he doubled over and tried to breathe. “It was Erimond. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium. He’s in the Western Approach.”

Cullen grabbed the mage and dragged him to Alistair’s guards. “I’ll leave for the Western Approach immediately; it will take me some time before I can get there.”

Alistair stepped closer to Cullen until they stood shoulder to shoulder and he leaned to his left to speak to Cullen as privately as possible. “No, Therinfal first. Make sure Ferelden is clear, let the Inquisition investigate the Approach.  I will send a letter back to Leliana.” The two men looked at each other. Cullen nodded and continued off into the hall.

Hours passed after the battle with no sign of Cullen; Cole’s reassurance that the Witcher was in the palace prompted the others to leave him wherever he sought solitude, except for Solona. She knew where Cullen retreated to when they were younger where he could be alone without loneliness.

He sat alone in the library the book in his lap open but not engaged. Cullen knew every word, every phrase. No matter how those around him tried to question his reasons; the words on the pages before him flowed through him, guided him and urged him to continue his journey.

 _My Maker know my heart;_  
_Take from me a life of sorrow._  
_Lift me from a world of pain._  
_Judge me worthy of Your endless pride._

Solona listened as he finished. She remembered impassioned conversations about the Canticle of Transfigurations when they lived at the tower. Cullen believed in the strength and power of the words and wanted to share his devotion with her. She smiled as she remembered how utterly awkward he would be when he talked about the mundane and then how a shy and reserved person could surge with passion and intensity when he talked about the Chant.

_“Just read it, Solona. That is what I am asking of you, not to convert you - read it. See the words for what they say. It doesn’t matter if you think Andraste said them or not just listen to it and then we can talk more. I know there is a part of these simple words that will touch you.”_

_Solona could not hide the flush in her face and the warmth spreading through her. Cullen’s devotion and impassioned pleas to her to bring her into his thoughts and world were more intense than any of their previous flirting and silliness.  She was moved by the notion he wanted to know her and her thoughts. She knew of others in the Circle who sought physical comfort in the arms of Templars, but that is not what she saw in Cullen. There was so much more beneath and she would do as he asked to delve more deeply into him._

_“Forgive me. I forgot myself.” Cullen read the flush on Solona’s face and answered with a blush of his own. “I did not wish to embarrass you,” he whispered and retreated within himself._

He was so much older now, all those years lost to the changes he experienced. The years showed on his face but she saw the gentle man beneath the lines and harshness. She knew he aged slower now than they did and would remain as he was now for years to come; even as time would devour life from all around him.

 Alistair was life to her; she could never see a day without him next to her but Solona could not let Cullen fade from her life. Solona could not say if it was love or obligation or just an overwhelming need to protect the man she once knew; she needed him to remain a part her life.

Solona spoke aloud to catch his attention. “I wonder; can you tell the verse by the feel of the page?” Cullen chuckled prompting Solona to continue. “Begging the Witcher’s pardon, does he have time to chat with a lowly mage?”

Cullen swung his legs around to face her. He stood and bowed. “Surely you jest, your Majesty. I never saw a lowly mage, only the woman with the potential to save the world and become a Queen.”

Solona laughed. “Liar – you can stop with the formalities, this is me, Sol and I’m worried about you.” She rubbed her thumbnail against her lip and in that simple action he knew her concern for him.

“Sol, you look happy and congratulations on the little one. Alistair is a very lucky man.” Cullen carried the book back to its home and shelved it. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your rooms.”

Solona took a deep breath. “Dorian says Yennelyn has no memory of you or him at all. I am sorry.”

Cullen did not look at her as he responded. “She’s better off, Sol. Maybe she can have another chance, a real life.”

Solona stopped and pulled on Cullen’s arm. “You can have a real life, Cullen. Do you think you live under some curse that prevents happiness?”

“I prefer to think my purpose comes before my pride. I’ll do what I have to keep people safe.”

Solona disagreed. “Keep people safe or keep them away from you? You push others away; I’m guessing to make sure you are easily forgotten.”

She took his arm again, and the walked in silence through the halls. Solona wondered how she might show him how important he was to both her and Alistair. He’d given them a chance at life and to grow old together. Cullen had saved them and there was nothing she could do in return. Silent tears fell as the two reached the royal rooms.

Cullen realized Solona’s emotional state slid into sadness just as he moved to open the door. He sighed. “Sol, what’s wrong?” A simple question of concern brought a torrent of tears and she buried her face in his chest. Cullen could only hold her and knocked on the door summoning Alistair. The door opened to Alistair’s surprised face. The two men spoke in gestures.

Alistair shrugged and pointed towards Solona.

Cullen shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Alistair laughed and then caught himself.

From within his chest Solona’s voice seeped out between the sobs. “I can hear you.”

Cullen handed Solona off to Alistair. “My dear, I hardly think royal tears add to Cullen’s armor protection. I am sure we can find something more suitable.” He kissed her forehead and turned back to Cullen to mouth the words ‘I’m sorry’.

He turned from his friends and walked back towards the library. “Cullen . . . wait,” she took several steps to join him again and smiled.

“You are not forgotten. Neither man nor Maker shall forget your bravery so long as I remember.” He shook his head at the surprise of her knowledge. She tried to show him what might prove he was important.

 _Apotheosis - she read the Chant after all._   He smiled at her and winked at Alistair. Cullen resumed his walk and called back over his shoulder. “Take care of her, my friend.” Alistair and Solona, were so sure of each other in Cullen’s eyes. Yennelyn needed him and loved him but he could never quite believe it was real beyond the magic that bound them together.

_“What was she like – your Solona?” Yennelyn asked._

_Cullen pulled his arms under his head and adjusted on the bed. “Why? She’s a human woman, Yen, and she’s married. Very married, sickeningly married to a good man. Solona is a friend Yen, and that’s all she will ever be.”_

_Yennelyn sat next to him and drew lazy patterns on his chest and stomach. “Do you regret the binding? You could have whatever you want, anyone you want.”_

_Cullen’s only regret was how Yen changed when she worried about the magic keeping them together. “Yen, I asked for this, remember? It is my choice, my desire, my wish to be with you.”_

_Her face darkened. He knew this Yennelyn well. Her insecurities fed her fears and encouraged her to lash out at everything around her except for him. “Before you think about what I could do, Yen, look around and see where I am.”_

__________________________

Therinfal Redoubt suffered an attack - that was clear to the four of them. Cassandra insisted they continue to look for any survivors but it was Cole’s increasing agitation and desire to leave that set Cullen on edge.

He climbed the tall entry steps and told the others to stay back. When Cullen reached for the door he felt a shift in his physical self. Cullen’s thoughts raced, it was neither time magic nor a rift but he was not where he should be. He took in his surroundings. This was the keep, he was sure of it – stone walls and dirt beneath his feet. The torches gave no heat and lit the entry with a violet light. The glow was unnatural to him, shades of green and purple mist with shadows that shifted and breathed around him. He tried to send out his senses to grasp the magic that enveloped him.

A voice spoke from deeper inside, faint almost as if it was still forming. “No cheating, Witcher.” Cullen followed the direction of the voice. “That’s it, come closer so I can see you.”

The stale air and lack of sound played on Cullen’s senses. “This is not real and yet it is.”

The voice taunted him again growing deeper and more defined. “Will you figure it out I wonder?”

The walls twisted and moved with each step. Cullen recognized the patters in the stone. “This is the same as Alexius’ villa.”

Cullen heard footfalls in front on him heavy at first as though learning to walk until they melded into a steady rhythm of forward motion. “Male and human by the sound.”

“Am I now? Imagine that – human are you sure?” The tone deepened more, the sing song quality giving way to a stronger more confident melodic male voice.

“The voice is familiar, but who is it and why am I speaking out loud?” Cullen’s confusion set his nerves on edge forcing him to check his weapons. His sword hilts were within reach but the swords would not rend free of the harness.

“No. Did you truly think you could use those in here? Tsk, tsk. I am so disappointed.” Under an eerie glow the grinning face of Alistair Theirin stepped out of the mists. The twisted smile and maliciously tone warned Cullen this was not his friend.

“Welcome home Cullen, shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the incredible Boticelli89 find this amazing artist on tumblr


	10. Damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen squares off with Envy at Therinfal Redoubt. In the aftermath, he must choose between control or chaos and in his decision face loss.

 

Chapter 10 Damaged

Dorian couldn’t breathe. The hand around his neck constricted his airway just enough to cause his lungs to burn. He looked into the feral eyes of the man who held him. “Cullen . . . please . . . can’t. . .” Dorian’s eyes teared as the pressure increased.  Voices rose in fear and panic as multiple arms tried to pry Cullen’s hand from Dorian’s neck.

Cullen drew the Aard sign sending all those around him away with a blast of energy.  The first shock of lightning to Cullen’s back caused him to loosen his grip. By the time the second blast connected, the Witcher prepared his shield and was ready.  He took advantage of the precious seconds and pulled the straight dagger from his waist. Two precise jabs as one time brothers stared into each other eyes, one pleading for release, and the other cold and numb.

Bull lunged forward only to be sent back at the force of Cullen’s dissipating shield. Yennelyn pushed through and forced her way in front of Cullen.  “Have you gone mad? He’s bleeding, Cullen. Can you hear me? Dorian is bleeding!”

The Witcher did not acknowledge her as dropped Dorian to the floor. “Do not follow me,” were his only words as he left Skyhold. 

_Cullen stood between Dorian and Yennelyn.  “Calm down, both of you,” he tried with outstretched arms to quell the fury in both mages. Dorian pushed himself up and healed the burns from Yennelyn’s strike. He narrowed his eyes at her. Dorian knew he’d pushed her, but hoped Cullen could see how unstable Yennelyn was at this moment._

_Dorian’s wrath flashed in his eyes as he looked from Yennelyn to Cullen. “This is calm! She means to deliver you to the Imperium, Cullen, why do you persist in protecting the Archon’s daughter! A pretty face and a pair of breasts and you submit without question? I cannot allow it.”_

_Yennelyn inclined her head and sneered at him. “Dorian, your jealousy is beyond measure! Cullen does not love you, when will you give up!”_

_He laughed. “Silly little witch, do you think I stay because I am trying to secret him away from you? You see only what you fear most. If ruin is what you seek, so be it. You’ve made your choice.” Dorian retreated deeper within the inn._

Cole sat opposite of Bull in the infirmary and both reacted as Dorian’s eyes opened and his body shook in fear. “It was a nightmare.” Cole offered.   “He’ll be all right. Tell him. “

Bull whispered as quietly as he could manage, reassuring Dorian he was safe and protected. But Bull’s physical presence said otherwise. He blocked anyone from coming near except for the healers and the surgeon to tend to Dorian’s injuries.  The Chargers patrolled Skyhold and the grounds.

“When I find him, Witcher or not, I will tear off his fucking head.” Bull spoke in a controlled tone, but Varric could not help but try to intervene.

Varric stood near the door. “Tiny, I know Cullen and there is a reason behind every action he takes. It’s not what you think.”

Cole added to the conversation. “He tried to prevent this and had no choice.”

Bull spoke over his shoulder. “Sorry, Cole. There’s no way anyone could believe this was the only option.” 

Cole looked at Varric from under his hat. “I can. Therinfal. He changed at Therinfal.”

______________________________

**Therinfal Redoubt – the previous month**

The creature before him looked like Alistair, but it was not. _It’s a_ _demon, but what kind?_

“You are not Alistair and this isn’t a time distortion or the Fade. The stones, the designs are all from Alexius’ villa but we are not in Tevinter.”

The creature with Alistair’s face sneered back. “You have a remarkable intellect for a monster, Witcher. Perhaps a few stick figures in the dirt or maybe a few rudimentary hand gestures would be more to your liking? Welcome home. This is where _you_ emerged and where _I_ will take your place.”

Cullen crossed his arms. “You can try.”

Alistair clapped his hands in glee. “Oh this is perfect; you plan to fight me. A Witcher is not all powerful, Cullen. You can be possessed by one such as me but you are far too strong right now.” Alistair feigned crying and covered his face with his hands. Alistair pulled his hands away and grinned. “I can fix that, Cullen. You are more human than monster and what do you think that means?”

Cullen glared back at the creature. “You plan to break my will.”

The creature gestured arms wide as though a crowd gathered around them. “Excellent. Let us continue. You’re still in Therinfal, with one minor change.” Alistair moved closer and tried to tap Cullen’s head prompting him to move away. “We’re inside that mutated, half-wit head of yours, Witcher.”

Cullen had dealt with demons and possessions before. “So far, I’m unimpressed. You must be new at this. Let me explain how this works. You don’t tell a Witcher you want to possess him, you do it and since you tried to search through my head for the right person, you picked the wrong one.”

Cullen moved toward his tormentor and connected his right fist with the nose of the Demon Alistair. The straight punch found its mark just below the bridge of the nose.  “Hey! What do you think-“ Before the Demon Alistair could finish, Cullen connected a jab from his left sending Alistair staggering.

Cullen continued his lesson, pacing back and forth. “Next time, don’t show off. I can fight without weapons.” The creature took a few more steps back. “Now, tell me your offer so I may not so politely decline and get back to what I was doing before you fucked with a Witcher.”

“You want my offer, do you? There isn’t one. The Herald should stand here before me and yet she never came. You arrived and now I can’t have you either which leaves me the Seeker or the mage.  Give me the mage and you may leave.”

 _Dorian? Not a chance._ Cullen crossed his arms and shifted his weight. “No, not going to happen. Go ahead, break me.”

The demon leaned against the wall and laughed. “How do you do that - the menacing tone, the dare to continue? Well, since you insist -  we will begin.”

_A young girl with long blonde curls broke through the mist. “Cul-len! I bet he’s at the lake again, pretending to be a Templar!” The girl turned and ran further into the darkened hall giggling calling after him. “Cullen! You’re too small to be a Templar! You have chores to finish!”_

_Cullen remembered that afternoon; he’d been teased so much he didn’t speak for the rest of the evening. In his silence he found a book and read the phrase he remembered even now; purpose before pride._

_“_ That boy died a long time ago demon, you must try harder than a childhood memory.” Cullen sat down on a bench.

The demon leaned against the wall and grinned. “A challenge Witcher?” Alistair rubbed his hands together.

_“Cullen?” He heard voice before he saw her form. She’d changed and dropped her usual choice of robes for light leather armor, not the best for magic but for a Warden she’d have a little more protection. She’d cut her hair short, shorter than he remembered but he figured it was all part of her new life._

_“Solona.” Cullen remembered this conversation at the inn in Redcliffe. He planned to meet Morrigan, but Alistair found him first and then Solona came to talk with him._

_“Solona, you need to stay away from me. I could have hurt you in the tower.” Cullen warned. He didn’t need her Templar getting pissed off in his face either. They’d established an unsettled alliance and Cullen was sure Solona could become an obstacle for that alliance._

_She sat across from him in the inn. “You should have come back for me.”_

_“Sol, it wasn’t possible. I came here looking for information on the Blight; I wasn’t coming back to anyone. My task is to end the Blight or help. I’ve promised Alistair to help him and that is my purpose now.” Solona looked down at her hands and moved them closer to his on the table. She sighed and the catch of breath as she exhaled confirmed his fears. “I am not that man and to be honest I’m not even human any more - I’m something to be avoided and ignored as you pass by. I can’t even touch your hand to comfort you.” Cullen stood and leaned against the wall. “You’re a Grey Warden now and you should know that Wardens don’t associate with Witchers, you hunt them. Remember that.”_

_Solona shook her head. “I could never do that to you, Cullen. It’s been a little over a year since you disappeared. Why are you acting like this?”_

_He turned away from her towards the door. “Your year has been ten years for me. I’m_ ten years _older, not one so you’ll forgive me if I’m not jumping around at seeing you again. Solona you have a Blight to fight and if my presence here will hinder that purpose then I’ll leave now.”_

“I believe I’ve had enough of this memory,” Cullen said as he stepped from the bench. “Fight me or don’t but getting into my head will not weaken me it’s only pissing me off.”

Cole appeared atop the table. “Do you remember the exit, Cullen? Not the front door, but the way out?”

The demon growled and disappeared as a disembodied voice echoed through the halls. “Get out, get out! He’s mine!”

Cullen had been one of the few in Skyhold who agreed Cole wanted to help the Inquisition and here he was where no one else could go. “Cole, are you here or just a part of my mind as well?”

Cole rocked back and forth. “Both, I guess. Envy wanted the Herald, but he doesn’t know enough about you. He will try again.” Cole vanished and appeared near the darkened hall. He pointed into the shadows. “Through here to the garden.”

Cullen hurried to Cole’s side. “Listen, Cole. Tell Cassandra to take you and Dorian away from here – the demon will try to take one of them. Leave me here. I will come back.”

Cole nodded. Cullen heard him speak as he faded into the shadows. “Envy won’t win but you still need to hurry.”

Cullen didn’t understand. “Cole, why do I need to hurry? I can take care of the demon; just get the others away from here.”

Cole’s voice rang out. “Not for them, for her.”

Cullen followed Cole into the darkness. “Yennelyn. Why is it always about Yen?” Cullen laughed. “Cole, you sneaky little . . .I understand. Cole was telling me how I get out of this - all of it; the demon, Yen and getting back to my mission. Thanks, kid. I’ll take it from here.” Cullen found he accepted Cole’s ability to look inside his head to pull out the perfect memory. He’d forgotten all about the little trinkets he carried.

_“Cullen, we need to run. Now!” Yen ran behind him and tried to push him forward. “It’s like trying to push a stone uphill, please listen and go!”  Yennelyn pushed and grunted while Cullen rocked on his feet laughing at her exertion._

_“What did you do?” Cullen asked._

_Yen sighed and dropped her arms. “It’s not what I did this time, it’s what I did not do and in my haste, shall we say, I may have let one tiny little demon free.”  Yen looked up into his face, eyes wide with pleading for his help._

_“Yen…,” he cautioned. “No bullshit.”_

_She paced in the small hallway. “Fine, it’s more like three pride demons, large ones. I only tried to remove the seal on the office door, how was I supposed to know he had a Fade lock? They aren’t used outside the Imperium.”_

_Cullen leaned against the wall in the hallway. The villa belonged to a trader from Antiva. Cullen was fulfilling a contract to retrieve documents proving slave trading in Orlais for Fenris and Hawke. “Yen, perhaps in your haste, as you said, you didn’t check to see if the door had any protections?”_

_“Yes,” she hissed. “All right, I didn’t and now three very large, very angry demons are coming this way. So maybe we could run now?”_

_Cullen pulled her close and kissed her. “You’re adorable when terrified. Trust me, I’ve got this.” She pushed him away and shook her head._

_“No you don’t, Cullen.” She watched as he dug in his pack and pulled out a clay disc. It was filthy, dirt dropped around Cullen’s feet as he wiped it off. She realized what he held in his hands for she could feel the magic pulsing from the filth and the disc.  “Is that dirt from consecrated ground? Where did you get a Neromenian seal?”_

_He chuckled. “I have a few of them. Nasty bit of work on Seheron, don’t ask.” Neromenian seals could  seal demons and spirits for later use. The clay discs could still be found in the Imperium and around Seheron and Par Vollen._

_Yennelyn looked over his arm at the disc. “Do you know how to activated the seal?”_

_“No, it’s not like it comes with a book explaining how to use it, Yen.” He continued. “You activate it and the demons are drawn to it and then the magic within pulls them back into the Fade with the right magic. Otherwise it seals them inside until the seal is broken.” Cullen explained._

_Her patience, rubbed raw only made him smile more. “Any child knows you have to activate a seal for it to work, Cullen, I’m trying to find out how we activate it and you are standing there grinning!”_

_Cullen smirked and moved closer to her. “Like any child should check for protections on a sealed door before opening it?” He felt the surge in her magic and how it would activate the seal’s full potential. He waited until she was ready and then pulled the seal to block her strike. The seal flashed once and pulsed. “Thank you. Stay here.” He laughed as he heard an exasperated moan leave her._

_He darted around the corner to see the three pride demons lumbering towards him. “I hope this works.” Cullen placed the seal on the floor and backed away as two of the demons approached. He placed a Yrden sign leaving a ring on the ground. Yrden would slow the demons down enough for the seal to pull them in. He left two more Yrden sign circles and hurried back towards Yennelyn._

_Her face relaxed as Cullen approached. “Why must you leave me, Cullen?” Yen reached for his face and stroked his beard. “Yen, there are three demons around the corner and instead of running away or facing them I will show you something.”_

_Cullen lifted her into his arms and sat her on the sideboard. She gasped as nuzzled his face against hers. His deep inhale and hot breath on her ear coaxed a shiver through her. He whispered into her ear his whiskers adding exquisite friction to each silken word.  “I will always come back for you, Yen. Not even demons and the Fade will ever keep me from you.”_

_When they pulled apart, Yen tried to catch her breath. “We need to get the list and get out of here.”_

_Cullen kissed her forehead and winked. “Give me a moment and then I’m yours.”_

_“Hurry.” She whispered._

He laughed as he walked through the thick darkness digging through his pack. Cullen moved toward the courtyard entrance. He found the seal and activated it with his own Ignii sign. “Time to catch a demon.”

Cullen walked out into the empty courtyard. He heard a body land atop the dirt, he assumed it jumped down from the courtyard wall.

Cullen turned to see the face of Dorian smirking at him. “Are you ready to play?” 

“No, pick another, not him.” Cullen said.

The demon circled around Cullen. “Not this face?” The demon taunted. “Have I found a weakness? The Elder One will be pleased to note that even the impressive Witcher has a flaw.”

Cullen gauged his steps towards the demon, seal in hand.

“I think I will let you go in favor of this mage. Bring him with you to Adamant Fortress, please, and I’ll claim him there.”

Cullen could hear the sounds of Cassandra and Dorian’s voices calling to him. “Void take you demon.” He charged at the figure of Dorian before him and knocked him to the ground shoving the seal into the demon’s hands.

Cullen realized he was outside at Therinfal again. Dorian lay beneath him shock replaced by a feigned smile.

“Cullen, it’s not that I’m complaining, but would you be so kind to get off me?” Dorian tried to push Cullen off and stand. “What happened? Oh, a Neromenian seal, I’ve never seen one outside of books  . . . wait. Where’s the demon?” Dorian looked around the stairwell.

Breathing a heavy sigh, Cullen realized he failed to capture Envy and would have to keep Dorian from this Adamant Fortress. He looked at Cole for reassurance but found none.

“I’m sorry, I tried to get them to go but I failed. He escaped you too.” Cole’s head dropped. “I’m sorry.”

Cullen clasped Cole’s shoulder. “Cole, you’ve done nothing wrong. You helped me and this means I will need to choose the best path from here.” Cole nodded. 

Cassandra leaned in to the conversation. “What are you two talking about? Who escaped?”

Cullen did not answer The four of them spent several hours combing through the keep and found only a few letters and documents of any use to the Inquisition.

When their investigation finished Cullen took the lead once again. “The keep is empty, there is nothing left inside. We should return to Denerim.” Cullen said and whistled for Shade.

Cassandra disagreed. “We need to return to Skyhold, Cullen. The Inquisitor may have returned from Crestwood and we should investigate the Western Approach.”

Cullen and Cole exchanged a quick glance and although he did not understand the meaning behind the exchange, Dorian acutely knew of the changes in Cullen’s demeanor.  Dorian would speak with Cullen as soon as he was able.

When the party departed Cullen and Shade pulled ahead.  Cullen’s thoughts drifted to fight at inn in Qarinus - Dorian had to travel a new path apart from Cullen because of Yennelyn.

_“Yen, don’t make me choose between you and Dorian.  Learn to exist in the same general space together.” Cullen looked out the window in the small room._

_Yen’s fury mounted with each second. “What is so bloody fantastic about Dorian? Is there something you want to tell me Cullen now you’ve bound us together? Now that_ Dorian _bound us together?”_

_Cullen’s concern to keep Yennelyn under control clouded his understanding of what she needed from him. His pensiveness only pushed her anger._

_“Do you keep him around when I can’t satisfy your needs? Does he make you feel like I do or is there something else he can do that I can’t?”_

_Cullen sighed and turned to face her. “Yen, Dorian is not a lover, never has been. He was the only person there for me when I was alone.”_

_Yennelyn scoffed and paced. “Cullen, listen to what you are saying, please! He made you into a Witcher, he helped Alexius and you stand there and say he was there for you? What kind of friend pushes you through torture, Cullen?”_

_She turned away. “Do you love him, is that why you refuse to say how you feel?” Yennelyn picked up the water pitcher and threw it at the wall. “Answer me!”_

_“Yen, you misunderstand…”_

_“Void take you Cullen!” She stomped through the room, out the door and slammed it behind her._

_Cullen stepped out of their room to find Dorian waiting for him. “The joys of binding magic, years of fighting, perceived betrayals and jealousy magically woven between two people who should have let it develop naturally. Tell me, my friend, was it the bliss you’d hoped?”_

_Dorian sighed. “Cullen, she’s emotional, unstable at best and I don’t want to speculate what she’ll be like at her worst.” Cullen tried to cut Dorian off, but he continued. “What I can see without question is Yennelyn sees me as a rival and it will always be this way. This is where we travel the path your beloved Maker has set.”_

_“She’ll get over it, Dorian.” Cullen offered._

_Dorian clapped his hand and Cullen’s shoulder. “No, she won’t, just get her south and away from the Imperium, find this Dorothea and perhaps she can help with Yennelyn’s moods.” He smiled. “Oh, don’t try to make me shed tears, Cullen, I’m sure your Maker will see fit to allow me to torment you soon enough. No hugging Cullen if Yen returns she’ll think I’m trying to steal you away. See you.”_

_Cullen laughed. “See you around Dorian.” He watched as his friend and brother turned to leave. “The road goes in both directions.”_

_The mage scoffed. “You could have said it in Tevene Cullen, what was the point of teaching you the bloody language if you don’t use it?” Dorian descended the stairs and left._

Cullen laughed to himself and shook his head.

“What happened back there and do not tell me some grandiose tale. You thought I was a demon why?” Dorian asked.

“Not important, Dorian. It was a hallucination.” Cullen replied.

There was more going on in Cullen’s head and Dorian did not like the way his friend reacted to Therinfal. “This is me talking, Cullen. Cassandra and Cole are quite a distance away, what did you see?” Dorian waited for Cullen to speak.

“Envy. He took Alistair’s face, and I thought . . .it’s over now Dorian. I can tell you aren’t possessed and we’ll leave the rest back in Therinfal.”

The others tried to engage Cullen in conversation on the return to Skyhold without success. When party stopped in Redcliffe for the night before heading into the mountains Cole found Cullen sitting in a dim corner of the busy inn.

“I can help, but you won’t like it.” Cole whispered. “I have a way to protect him.”

“Cole, there has to be another way. We can talk about something else.” Cullen offered.

The corners of his mouth turned up a little. “Your eyes remind me of the cats that wait for the fishermen in Rivain, Witcher. Do you remember her? She wanted you to think she was brave.”

Cullen’s throat clenched and he coughed. “Cole, I won’t forget her – I can’t . . . Esperanza.”  
  
_________

_“Are you the Witcher?” Esperanza, she was young, but no less respected in her family and far bolder than most women. He caught sight of her as she approached him at the docks pushing her way through sailors and merchants. Cullen watched as she stomped on a few toes to get the others to move out of her way._

_Cullen bowed his head to her. “I am fair maiden.” She laughed._

_“Mother warned me you’d try to be charming. You will follow me please, my mother waits for you. You may call me Essa, if you like,” she offered._

_Cullen offered his hand. “Then if we are to travel together, dear lady, you may call me Cullen.” He offered his hand to her and the girl frowned._

_“I’m not a child, Witcher, I am nearly sixteen years old. I need not be walked by the hand.” Esperanza looked up at him defiantly and crossed her arms daring him to push her. Her face softened. “Your eyes remind me of the cats that wait for the fisherman to return. You wait . . . but for what I can’t be sure.” Her face sharpened once again and eyes focused on Cullen._

_Her strange reverie confused him for a moment but Cullen focused on escorting the young woman away from the docks and back to her family. “Essa, I need you to guide me to your mother and the docks are filled with people. If you take my hand, I will not get lost.” Cullen spoke in soft voice and smiled, the girl must have forgotten his numerous visits when she was younger; her mother Illeana was often in contact with Cullen for delicate matters._

_Esperanza’s face showed her consider Cullen’s request for a moment or two and then she nodded to herself and took his hand. “I still think it’s a trick, but I warn you, I have a dagger and know where it hurts most.”_

_Cullen allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd until they reached the city gates. Esperanza turned and gestured for Cullen to continue. “I remember you well, Witcher, although I recall you were much taller the last time you visited. Thank you for your protection, but I believe we will be safe until we reach my mother.”_

_He inclined his head and winked. “Still trying to be charming? You save that charm for the lovely lady on the docks. She’ll find you soon enough.”_

_“You’re a Seer.” Cullen said. He wanted to ask more about the woman on the docks. She’d spoken only a few words to him but those few moments replayed in his head whenever his mind wandered._

_Esperanza laughed. “Soon, Witcher, your Maker has plans for you.”_

_Cullen felt a slight embarrassment as he did not realize he was so readable to Seers._

_She stopped him. “Cullen? That woman is written all over you. Good and bad, a child could tell you’d found someone special to you. That is talk for another time. Mother needs you.”_

_Cullen nodded. “Take me to her, Essa.”_

_Illeana saw Cullen’s tall frame crest above the tent line. He saw a hand rise and wave. “I see her, Essa. Thank you for your company.”_

_Esperanza linked her arm through his. “You are not rid of me yet, Cullen. A thank you for your respect is in order. Stick to the docks - she searches for you, too. Fair winds to you, Witcher.”_

_“Fair winds to you, Essa.” Cullen had learned in his time with these tribes to respect their customs. Illeana’s family never said goodbye. He wound his way through tents and crates, through fire pits and cooks until he found Illeana._

_“Cullen!” Illeana pushed past a few of her attendants and barreled into him. He grunted as she put the full force of her ample curves into a crushing hug._

_“Careful, Ana, you’ll break me and then you’re stuck with me.”  Cullen said laughing as she hugged him. Illeana never failed to make Cullen feel more uncomfortable and at ease all in the same moment._

_She slapped his posterior and chuckled. “Don’t tempt me. Essa says you’re in love. Your ass is taken.”_

_Cullen realized Esperanza kept more information to herself than she shared with him. Cullen coughed. “I’m what? Can we not talk about my ass?”_

_Illeana looked behind him and grinned. “You Fereldens are far too uptight. We say what we feel and take when it’s given. You are a handsome man,  you’ll get over it.” Illeana walked towards her tent. “And don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m in no mood. Come back with me, Cullen.”_

_Cullen ducked to enter the large tent. “Ana, why are you in tents again; I thought the villa was completed?”_

_She sat down and motioned for Cullen to join her. “It is completed. There is a small problem that requires your . . . talents.” Illeana explained his fees would be five times his rate along with new weapons and armor._

_“Five times the rate plus weapons and armor – is it a demon or dragon?” Rivaini were shrewd traders, to offer such a high reward at the start of the deal meant serious trouble. Cullen trusted the Seers in Rivain and if Esperanza’s gifts could provide him with information he wanted to hear from her._

_“Mother, please, you cannot work against what must happen, you will only cause more pain. Witcher, there is no need for you; all we must do is exchange a life. . . mine. Mother refuses to listen, but I have seen this and accept my fate.”_

_Cullen’s eyes darted to Illeana, her frustration evident as she rubbed her temples with her fingers. “No, let the Witcher remove the problem, Essa.”_

_Esperanza explained what she saw. “I dream the same each night. The spirit asks to be freed, it cannot leave. I can guide him through my death.”_

_Cullen shook his head. “No, Essa. I will send the spirit or demon or whatever it may be to the Fade. Don’t be so eager to meet death.”_

_Illeana’s mother leaned into the tent. “You above of all others know Witcher, your Maker guides the path not the man. A man tried to do the impossible and make a warrior. You should have died and yet you stand here a Witcher. The Archdemon should have ended your life and yet you lived. Time and again you survive the obstacles set before you. This is not luck, Witcher, you have a path to follow. Do not dismiss her path.”_

_“I have to try to that’s why I’m here, right?” Cullen said. The old woman nodded._

_Cullen spoke with the women well into the evening hours. He would set out for the villa just after sundown. Cullen checked his supplies before departing. A Witcher could use various alchemical concoctions to weaken spirits, beasts and creatures of all kinds and although Thedas had changed in the time since the rise of the Witchers; most of the formulas adapted to the ingredients available in Thedas as compared to ancient times. Until he knew more about what prowled the villa’s grounds, he could not prepare._

_Illeana arranged a fishing boat to take Cullen around to the shore closest to the villa. When he waded ashore, he knew what waited for him. He climbed the small dune to its crest and ventured onto the grounds. The balmy winds from the water chilled as he stepped closer to the courtyard. An old woman shrouded in dark tattered rags sat near the unused fountain. Cullen drew his silver sword; she was neither weak nor feeble and he would fall if she gained control of their encounter. He stepped and paused watching her, waiting for her to spring her attack. She was Despair, and she was hungry._

_Cullen had faced despair demons in the Imperium but always with a mage gifted in fire magic like Dorian. Ignii did not have the range he would need; he could manage short bursts of fire up close but they would cause minimal damage to her; Cullen would have to rely on his shield and well timed blows before he froze to death or she consumed him. He pulled a vial of Thunderbolt potion to increase his strength, Tawny Owl to regenerate his stamina and Swallow. If he could stay alive long enough to weaken her and the shield she used; he might walk away._

_The problem with Signs is they must be drawn; gestures to activate their use. Cullen was not a mage. He could wield his sword and draw the sign but not in succession. “This will hurt.” Cullen stepped closer to the wailing pile of rags and heard the crackle of frozen grass beneath his boots._

_Cullen placed a Yrden sign and circle around the demon and slowed her motions enough for him to connect twice with his sword and loose a single blast of flame. She howled and spun away from him rags spinning around her until she settled into a hover across the courtyard._

_“Cullen!” He heard Esperanza call to him. “Quick, your cross bow and bolts - ignite this torch!  We use this oil to keep the pits burning, its thick so it will stay. I will hand you the bolts, just fire!” Cullen ignited the torch, pulled his bolt bag and handed it to Essa._

_“I thought I was clear you needed to stay away.” Cullen growled as he loaded and fired. The Despair demon shrieked as the syrupy mixture carried the flames to her._

_Essa scoffed. “I don’t fear my fate and you must walk away from this fight. Now hush and aim Witcher, or shall I do that as well?” Cullen and Essa continued their silent dance of flame and onslaught. The demon’s wails grew louder as her shield and strength waned. “Now, Witcher, defeat her now!”   Cullen dropped the crossbow with Essa and darted to his right and rolled as the demon tried to connect her ice blast. He rolled further right as the demon’s ice spike rose beneath his feet._

_“Essa, get back to the boat!” Cullen yelled over his shoulder and jumped to run up the handrail of the front staircase. He yelled and leapt at the same time connecting his sword with a left swipe across the demon’s front. The demon faltered and fell towards the stone paving allowing Cullen time for a focused Ignii blast.   Cullen stumbled. He missed the cue from the demon and took a full blast from a second ice spike, his back arched from the pain and he pitched forward. Esperanza screamed as she watched Cullen drop to his knees._

_“No, you cannot have him!” She yelled and sprinted towards the demon._

_Cullen held up his hand but Essa did not stop she threw the bucket and torch towards the demon igniting a pyre. Cullen could not move fast enough to pull Esperanza away before the ice spike, pierced through her. He forced his legs to move and swiped at the demon as he spun to his left and right hacking away until it faded._

_He raced to Essa’s side and sunk as he realized no breath ran through her battered body._  
  
\-------

“Cole, please. I could not save her. I know I failed.” Cullen bit back what little emotion he allowed to seep out of his memory. He looked at Cole in surprise to see the young man cried. “Why, Cole?”

He sighed and locked eyes with Cullen. “I cry for her because you won’t. I will for him if you refuse to stop him.”

 Cullen looked up at the young man and sighed. “He’ll never forgive me nor will he understand. This will be a betrayal from which he might not recover. If I do what you are suggesting, I will lose the last of my family.”

Cole shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to help you.”

Cullen stood. “Help him understand. He will not be able to lift a staff and should not travel. I will wait until it we know the destination is set. Until then, not a word.” Cullen left Cole at the table and walked away.

“Fair winds to you, Witcher.” Cole whispered.  

 

__________________

Dorian learned Cullen left the party during the night. His message showed he wanted to meet with Leliana prior to leaving for the Western Approach ahead of the Inquisition. “Lady Cassandra, please consider what I am trying to point out. Cullen would not consider leaving us to fend for ourselves to return to Skyhold ahead of us. There is an ulterior motive to his departure and truth be told, the reason isn’t good.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Really, Dorian. There is nothing wrong with Cullen wanting to discuss matters in private with Leliana. I understand this behavior is common with him.”

Unconvinced, Dorian continued to complain until Skyhold rose before them.

Cullen did not want to face Dorian’s questions about Therinfal and retreated to the prison area outside near the crumbling edge. The rushing waterfall helped him to meditate and prepare for a task he wished would pass from him.

Blackwall watched the Witcher secret himself into the prison area. He well knew the look carried by Cullen as he entered. Despite his desire to keep his distance, Blackwall followed and entered the cells beyond the prison.

“I . . .come here myself – to think.” Blackwall offered to Cullen’s back. There is a peace here, even with all the prison cells. The water. . .helps clear my thoughts, washes away what troubles me. You wear the look of someone I know well, the look of a man who must face his actions” Blackwall’s voice trailed off, concerned he’d intruded on a private moment. As he turned to go, his footsteps reminded Cullen of the respect a Warden is due.

“A moment Warden, I apologize if I was rude. There are. . . concerns I . . .it’s not important.” Cullen stood from his meditation position on the stone and faced Blackwall. “I understand you have helped with the Wardens so far. Thank you. You could have left and joined your brothers. You remind me of an old friend who put others before himself. I am not a noble creature. You are a credit to the Wardens and I thank you for your kindness.”

Blackwall’s expression darkened. “A credit? I’m afraid you have the wrong man. As for you, Witcher, you are a better man than you realize and I would challenge any who say otherwise.” Cullen did not reply, but turned back to watch the water rush over the rocks barely covering Blackwall’s sigh as he left the cell area.

Dorian, meanwhile sought the one person Cullen could not dismiss. Yennelyn. Dorian explained the events of Therinfal to Yennelyn and Solas. She grew concerned as he recounted the events he witnessed and explained the uses of the Neromenian seal. Solas’ cringe at the mention of the artifact was not missed by Dorian either and he resolved to speak with the knowledgeable elf alone.

Yennelyn’s concern overshadowed her reticence to interact with Cullen. She dreamt every night of the Witcher and his physical presence overpowered her senses. She could not understand the need to find him whenever he was in residence and if he was away, the dreams intensified.  Commander Rylen was a distraction to allow her body to feel physical pleasure, but it was not Rylen she saw when they were together.

When she left Solas’ study, Yennelyn realized she searched for Cullen. She inhaled and thought of him and in that instant she felt drawn to the courtyard. She did not know where he was, but he was close. “What magic is this?” She stepped towards the prison and her breath caught. “He’s there.” Her initial fear gave way to anticipation until her legs took control and she realized she was running into the prison area and through the back door.

 _Cullen_. She did not speak his name, but he turned as though she had shouted it. She marveled at his fluid movements as he rose without effort and matched her urgency.

“Lady Trevelyan, what’s wrong?” Cullen resisted the growing need to pull her into his arms and crossed them to balance himself.

“Cullen, who _are_ you? I need to know.” She stepped closer until they stood at arm’s length and as he stepped backwards she realized his discomfort. 

“No, my Lady, you don’t. I am a friend who will continue to help you and that will have to be enough.” Cullen turned toward the roaring water. “You should prepare to leave for the Approach, but I would ask one thing. Leave Dorian behind - this is all I will ever ask of you, please do this for me.”

“Cullen, do me the courtesy of looking at me when we are talking. Do you treat _Dorian_ this way?”

The inflection of her voice and the acidic tone as she said Dorian’s name caught him unaware. He pulled her closer and searched her eyes with his. “Yen?”

For a moment her breath caught. There was recognition in his voice, not denial. She did not think as she nodded to him and slipped her arms around him. When her body met his, every muscle between them relaxed and settled. Each breath taken as though only one body stood. She knew he was a part of her and yet her fear of not knowing him rekindled her fear. He lifted her chin to meet him. Her breathing, ragged and rapid broke through his desire. _This is not my Yen._ His thoughts took control and forced his body to pull away.

Cullen’s voice, soft and tender coaxed a light sigh from her lips. “Forgive me, I apologize. Please keep Dorian here, do not let him go to Adamant.” Cullen stepped towards her, her eyes still glazed from there near encountered and offered his outstretched hand. She laid hers atop his and held her breath as his lips touched the top of her hand. “I will watch over you at Adamant, my Lady.”

He moved through the door leaving her alone. She touched her face surprised at the tears she cried at his departure. _This has to end, whatever there is between us must stop._ Yennelyn’s thoughts of Cullen plagued her as she left to join the advisers in the War Room.

________________________

“Well, shit.” Varric sighed and slumped in his chair. “Are you sure?”

Cullen spoke with Varric and Hawke tucked away on the third floor of the Herald’s Rest.  “I’m afraid so. Yen may not be strong enough to keep Dorian from going to Adamant when the Inquisition marches. When are the bulk of the forces leaving?”

Hawke leaned in to keep the information between the trio. “In three days. Josephine has secured the war machines and Leliana’s scouts report the fortress  remains quiet. They wait for reinforcements from Weisshaupt, and our contacts say the Wardens will leave the Anderfels when those remaining in Orlais make the journey. We’ll arrive just after them.” Hawke sat back in her chair. “Something tells me you won’t wait and travel with the group.”

Cullen smirked. “Am I so easy to read, Hawke?”

She leaned back far enough in her chair to prop her legs up on the table. “You, my friend, are predictable and stupid enough to end this on your own so no one else gets hurt. This is a full siege campaign, Cullen. You can’t fix this on your own.”

He pushed away from the table and leaned forward. “I can try. You can help me by keeping my Tevinter friend away from Adamant.” The pair remained silent as Cullen descended the stairs, each step slow and heavy.

Hawke adjusted her body to lean towards Varric. “He’s worried,” she whispered. “And when Cullen is worried it makes me nervous.”

A sudden crash on the first floor sent Hawke and Varric down the stairs. Hawke pushed past Varric to see Bull help Dorian stand. “Is this how we deal with news we don’t like Cullen? I’m appalled at your lack of manners.” Dorian quipped.

“I’m not teasing or joking here, Dorian.” Cullen stood firm, fists clenched.

Dorian scoffed as Yennelyn and Cole entered the Rest. “Neither am I, _Cullen._ I wasn’t asked to be in the infiltration party, but now I will insist as you refuse to talk with me. Run along, Witcher, the rest of us have a mission to prepare.”

Hawke tried to intervene. “Both of you step back and we will discuss the situation in a calm-“

Cullen lunged forward and pushed Dorian against the wall. “I am tired of your Tevinter superiority, Dorian. Time to learn your lesson, my way.” Cullen’s right hand reached out and grabbed Dorian’s neck. The next words from Cullen were heard by Dorian’s ears alone. “I’m sorry.”

Dorian’s eyes widened as Cullen’s hand gripped tighter.

______________________

Dorian would travel with the Inquisition forces as a healer, but could not fight within the Fortress. By the second day, Dorian could speak without pain and joined the inner circle in the Rest to discuss their plans for Adamant. 

Yennelyn and Cassandra decided together to bring Cole and Solas into the fortress itself with Hawke and Warden Stroud to accompany them. Vivienne, Blackwall and Bull would stay with Dorian while Sera and Varric would provide covering fire with the Inquisition soldiers.

Bull remained agitated over the events with Cullen and demanded a chance to bring him back for judgement.

Dorian did not agree. “No. Cullen is not to be touched and _anyone_ who does will answer to me.” Dorian looked at Bull.

“Dorian. . . “ Bull did not like Dorian’s edict.

“Do not defy me in this. Lady Inquisitor, I want assurances.” Dorian’s demand was delivered with his usual politeness but Yennelyn knew he expected her to agree.

Yennelyn assured Dorian and made it clear to the others Cullen was not to be harmed.

Meanwhile on the Imperial Highway, Cullen turned Shade towards the Approach. The last of his family separated out from him and Yennelyn’s unending loss of memory heavy in his thoughts, Cullen resolved to cull the demons, the Wardens and find Envy before his life ended.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me hear from you! Tell me what you think!


	11. Crushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian grasps at memories as he tries to understand what went wrong as the Inquisition heads to the Western Approach. Cullen rides ahead to settle the score with Envy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't enough proper words to thank my awesome test reader, beta and fellow Witcher and Cullenite fanatic, Replica_Jester

_Dorian did not change his expression; he would not give the witch the satisfaction of showing his fear of her but he was ready for her next move._

_Yennelyn stretched her arms out, and the wind circled her frame. As it churned, flashes of lightning appeared around her._

It’s an illusion _, Dorian thought. He’d watched her do this before – she could use the magic of the Fade somehow to project the image. Yennelyn was skilled in several elements but lightning was her preferred discipline, not wind- Dorian realized wind was the illusion.  What he knew was how to beat her little game. This sparring as Cullen called it should be friendly, but Yennelyn would never be friendly towards Dorian._

_“Ready, mage?” She called from across the field._

_Dorian glared back at her but did not indicate his intentions. His ice magic was not as refined as his manipulation of fire, but his goal was to block her and not attack. Missing her target would upset Yennelyn far more than hitting him._

_She thrust her arms toward Dorian and shrieked as the Ice Wall rose between them.  “No! You bastard!” Yen’s blast collided with the free standing row of ice and crumbled from the lightning hit._

_Cullen chuckled as he leaned against a tree. “Sorry, Yen. This round goes to Dorian.”_

_She scoffed and walked off, hands flailing as she argued with herself over the loss._  
  
\---------

Dorian stirred from another nightmare. Bull watched over him as he slept in their tent. The nightmares lessened over the time they traveled to Adamant, but Bull and Yennelyn worried over Dorian’s state of mind. When awake, Dorian would not listen to anyone questioning the Witcher’s actions and withdrew. He’d pushed away everyone except for Cole and Bull. 

Yennelyn did not talk with Dorian; she waited for his spirits to return. If Cullen truly left the Inquisition, Dorian was her last hope to explain her past.  Cullen attacked Dorian that was clear to them but the nature of Dorian’s injuries puzzled the small group gathered near a fire pit.

“No, you are all missing the point!” Hawke stretched to grab a staff from the weapon rack. “Look here.” She lifted the long wooden weapon upright and out from her body. She mimicked Dorian’s usual staff moves. “He uses his shoulders for movement and the other for balance and those two precise spots were Cullen’s targets. He knew how to incapacitate Dorian.” 

“Listen, here all of you. Hawke speaks true.” Blackwall led the discussion. “This was to prevent the mage from entering Adamant. You should ask why does the Witcher want to keep Dorian out of the battle? Seems that’s the problem. First off, Cullen isn’t about to kill off the one of his closest men. That’s just not who he is. Trust me, I’ve been out on my own long enough to see to what lengths a man will go.”

“Beardy’s right.”  Sera said. “He’s a Witcher, right? If he’d wanted him dead, we’d be burying him.” She tucked her legs underneath her and held her knees almost rocking. “They’re good guys and they get rid of the bad things. He was there when the darkspawn came, you weren’t.”

Blackwall nodded and continued. “I’ve said it before: it’s what you do and how you do it that’s important and _that_ man has proven it since he was dragged into the Inquisition."

Vivienne scoffed. “He is no man, a beast to be put down, my dears. You are all suffering from the delusion that a Witcher can be trusted.”

Sera clucked her tongue. “You’re just sore because he called you on your shite. I heard it.” Sera put on an angry sneer and dropped her tone low to mimic Cullen. “I know what happened in Montsimmard and in Ostwick, you may have fooled the Circle but – “

Vivienne stood abruptly. “I have heard enough. Vicious rumors, salacious gossip? I simply will not sit here and listen.”  She left the group under the watchful eyes of Varric and Hawke.

Hawke stretched out and yawned. “Funny thing about Cullen, he doesn’t gossip and most of the time you have to drag conversation out of him.  He prefers to let others hang themselves on their own lies.”

Varric looked sideways at Hawke. “Some of us have more to fear than others. But that is not my story to tell.”

Blackwall laughed. “There’s a first, you not share a story? Must be a good one.”

Sera perked up. “Ooh! I’ve got a good story.”

Varric and Blackwall spoke at the same time. “No, Sera.”

She scoffed. “Balls.”

Dorian could hear the discussion outside the tent. “Cullen wouldn’t hurt me. Everything for a reason,“ he muttered.

Cole sat next to Dorian’s cot, eyes closed and rocked gently back and forth. “Yes, that’s the one. Remember that one.”  
  
\--------

_Dorian forgot about Cullen’s training that morning, he’d been working with an alchemist on the formula updates for several of the potions. A horrible sound assailed his ears as he neared the garden courtyard. A cross between a growl of a beast and the whine of a dog filled the empty corridors and pulled Dorian towards the sound his magic primed and at the ready.  As he burst into the courtyard, Dorian had to balance himself to keep from falling down._

_Cullen was on the ground and Felix’s pet wyvern stood on his chest, growling and snapping at him while Cullen wrestled with the creature’s jaws.  Cullen tried to throw the wyvern to his right but the creature only slipped in the dirt and then stood firm. He pushed the creature’s snout away from him and barely missed his hand snapped tight in its crushing jaws. “Cullen!” Dorian cried out and prepared to attack. “When I attack roll towards me!”_

_“No!” Cullen yelled and grabbed the creature by the neck and rolled him over.  “We’re playing!” Cullen held out his hands. “I’m fine! Dorian, please!”_

_Dorian’s hand’s dropped. “You’re . . .you’re what?”  The look of shock and disbelief only intensified as the wyvern tried to push Cullen over with his snout. Cullen grabbed the wyvern by the neck and wrestled with him. “Cullen, stop that!”_

_Cullen pushed the wyvern away and pointed towards the stables.  He whined and ran off towards his pen._

_“You realize as a Witcher you are not_ supposed _to befriend the creatures you hunt.” Dorian shook his head and stared skyward. “Explain why you two are playing out here like a boy and his dog?”_

_Cullen brushed off his trousers and his tunic. “You are late. We, that is Dog and me, were bored.”_

_The mage paced and smoothed his hair. “Dog. You named a wyvern – Dog? You need to get out of the sun my friend and put your nose back in those books.  He could have killed you or at the least taken your hand!”_

_Cullen leaned back, put his hands on hips and walked towards the stables. He whistled and Dog bounded towards Cullen._

_Dorian shook his head. “Andraste’s tits Cullen, you cannot be serious, you’ve trained it?”_

_“Him, Dog is a boy. If you would arrive on time more often, I wouldn’t have spare time to train him.” Cullen patted the wyvern’s flank. “Good boy, fancy a tasty mage? Get him!”_

_Dorian’s hands shot out in front of him. “Cullen, this is not funny. Cullen! Call him off!” Dorian back away slowly; the wyvern crouched as he advanced snarling and snapping his jaws. Cullen’s deep laughter filled the courtyard until a shrill whistle sounded and the creature stopped.  “That was most certainly not funny, Cullen. I will find a way to return the insult.”_

_Cullen continued to laugh as he patted the side of his leg and Dog trudged back to his side. He gave a few rough pats to the creature’s flank and rubbed under his chin. Dog licked Cullen’s hand and arm. “Ugh. Thanks, Dog. Time to go.”  He pushed the wyvern towards the stables and cleaned off his hands on his trousers._

_Dorian rolled his eyes. “Did you wipe that -gunk- on your clothes?”_

_“Come on Dorian, have a little fun now and then. I’ve been stuck in this place for eight months. I have it worse than Dog – he gets to hunt. I get to read and study.” Cullen crossed his arms. “You couldn’t possibly understand what I have experienced. You’re trying to force me into the mold of what you and Alexius see I should be and I can’t be that kind of . . .whatever I am.” He bowed his head and turned away. “You can’t turn me into someone I was not meant to be, Dorian. I will be the Witcher you want, but I will not give up Cullen so easily.”_

_Dorian fell back against the garden wall. “My father -  if I thought for one moment he cared about what I am involved in now; I would say he put you up to this. I’m not who you think. This was my last chance to prove to my father I am worthy of the family name. I apologize if you believe I am trying to change who you are, that was never my intention.”_

_Cullen saw pain in Dorian’s face. His senses showed him an increase in the beating of his heart and breathing and seeing Dorian lose himself in such a strong emotion pulled him towards his friend._

_“Dorian. I’ve upset you. I apologize. You helped me through the trials. You took care of me. I will never forget your kindness.” Cullen took a few steps closer. “Non effundatur sanguis meus, familia estis.”_

_Dorian feigned a laugh. “The accent is deplorable. But the sentiment. . .we are not family, but yet we are. Thank you, my friend. Now enough of this ludicrous sentiment. Get that dog back here and work on your shield!” Dorian winked and hopped up atop the garden wall._        
  
\--------                                                                                                                                        

Dorian mumbled in his sleep. “Infecto. . . Infecto.”

Bull leaned over. “Infecto? It’s a Vint word for ‘unfinished’, but what does he mean?”

Cole’s response was soft and low. “He’s looking for reasons. Leave him.”

_The surrounding books held so much and Dorian loved the mystery of it all. He rested against a bookcase thinking the Imperium and Tevinter were far more than just the sum of magic and power. Tevinter was a place of learning and discovery, a glorification of the wonders magic could bring to life. He would see it restored but instead, the Archon resorted to ancient forms of torture and manipulation striving to underline the very worst of them all. Cullen should have taken their lives when he awoke a Witcher; he wondered when death would finally come for him.   “The monster we tried to create turned in a superior man, a wasted lesson in the Imperium.”_

_Cullen cleared his throat.  “Dorian. A good man isn’t measured by his fellows, rather by actions and deeds he performs without reward.” Cullen smiled. “I think that’s the proper translation.”_

_Dorian chuckled. “Close enough and thank you.” Dorian pushed away from the bookcase. “Time for a lesson? Am I late?”_

_Cullen revealed a small case. “Time for a break, I think. Best two out of three.” Cullen opened the case to reveal the chess board._

_“You don’t have to entertain me, Cullen.”_

_Cullen pulled a chair over to the small table for himself. “You won’t let me leave to hunt or go into the city. You won’t let me go to the Proving Grounds. So what is left to do old man? Chess.“_

_Pulling another chair to the small table, Dorian sat across from Cullen. “Chess? Are you trying to tell me you can play?”_

_“Well, actually.” Cullen continued as he set the pieces in their proper starting positions. “I used to play against my siblings. My sister used to best me every time; she’d get this smug look on her face every time she won.” Cullen finished setting up the pieces and leaned back in his chair. “Eventually, my brother and I practiced all the time until I could win every game. The first time I bested her, the look on her face when she realized I’d won, was a superb day. I haven’t played in some time.”_

_Cullen’s lighter tone of voice and relaxed posture was such a stark contrast to what he’d grown accustomed to with Cullen it prompted Dorian to offer his hand. “Dorian Pavus. You must be Cullen Rutherford, a pleasure.”  Cullen’s confusion at the introduction coaxed a laugh from Dorian. “I believe I just met the real you, not the Witcher, and_ this _Cullen seems to be a rather decent fellow.”  Dorian sighed. “You miss your family. We should look for them when we leave here. They should be told you are well - your family must be so worried.” Dorian slumped forward. “I’m so sorry. An unfinished life. How dare we?”_

_Cullen did not look up from the board. “Infecto vitae. The life unfinished.”_

_Dorian moved the first piece. “Do me a favor and stop speaking Tevene. It’s damned embarrassing.”_

_Cullen countered with his piece. “Then try showing up for lessons on time. Maybe my languages won’t suffer if the teacher shows up.”_

_Dorian moved a piece on the board. “A question, if I may?”_

_“Just ask, Dorian.” Cullen grumbled and studied the board._

_“Were you a cheeky bastard before all this, or did we unlock some latent ability?” Dorian asked._

_Cullen completed his move and leaned back. A smirk grew as he settled into his chair._

_“I see. You will not answer, will you?”_

Dorian turned towards Cole. “It was Cullen and not the Witcher.”

Cole nodded. “Cullen protected you. The Witcher goes in your place. ”

Bull growled. “That’s a load of crap. Protected him? He fucking stabbed him – twice!”

Dorian grabbed Bull’s hand. “No. There are two parts to him. The man and the one created. Cullen knows me well. I would have gone straight into whatever trap was laid, so Cullen made sure I could not go.” Dorian sat up. “We need to keep moving, if Cullen will go to these extremes what awaits us in Adamant is lethal and he faces it alone.”

 

**_Western Approach-Imperial Highway_ **

The struggles facing Dorian on the march to Adamant plagued another stuck on the Imperial Highway. _This seems longer. I don’t remember it taking so long to get to the Approach._ “Oh right, Yen. That would explain it. Back then I didn’t care.  What were we looking for that time?”  

_“Dragonthorn and Witherstalk, Cullen. You need the Dragonthorn and the Approach is the only place we can find it unless you want to go to Minrathous?” Yennelyn wheeled around and stared at him. “I didn’t think so and don’t roll your eyes at me!”_

_Cullen stifled a sigh, Yen’s moods were getting much worse, and she refused to seek this Dorothea for help. He could tell something in her physical self was akin to him and to Morrigan. “We should rest; you’re a little . . . agitated.” Yen was out of balance, some unknown magic was driving these moods._

_He heard her huff or snort or some other exhalation of breath he couldn’t quite place. The swiftness as she turned around startled him. “Agitated?” Her face red showed her anger rising but her right hand clenched holding a charge of magic caused him to step away from her. It was black to his senses, red tendrils and violet veins throughout it._

_“Yen?” Cullen asked cautiously nodding towards her hand._

_She grasped the meaning of his retreat and expression. “Are you. . .afraid of me?”_

_His shoulders lost their natural rigidity and Cullen closed the distance between them as fast as he could. He held her tight against him and steadied his voice. “Never. Concerned, but never afraid. “_

Cullen continued on towards the Approach. “Until Kirkwall. . . Maker, I miss Yen more every day but if losing her means never having to see that kind of destruction again, I will accept the loss.” Cullen spoke aloud, not a prayer to Maker but perhaps a vow of acceptance. Shade refused to continue on. “I’m not giving up, Shade. We need to find Envy before the Inquisition arrives. I can sit here and argue with a horse or you can get me to Adamant, your choice.”

The horse stepped back and forth and then relaxed.  Cullen looked off in the distance. “Great, hurlocks.” Cullen pulled his blade and steadied his mount. “Come on Shade, let’s have some fun.”

 

**_Imperial Highway- Inquisition caravan_ **

 “The next person to treat me like an infant at the breast will find themselves a bit charred.” Dorian’s irritation at the constant attention reached its peak as Yennelyn directed her horse to where Dorian sat complaining loudly in a cart. “Marvelous, now the Lady Yennelyn must attend to me as well. How did I get so _lucky?_ ”

Yennelyn thought about her response carefully. If his sarcasm wasn’t evident enough, the deep frown on his face made it clear Dorian’s mood was foul.  He was often selective and careful of the words he would use when he talked with her at length. But his surly attitude was irritating her as never before.

She tried to think of a kind way to ask him what was wrong, but instead found her own ire directing the conversation. _This ends now._ She took a deep breath and moved closer to him.  “Dorian, I am not here to attend to you, actually you are being treated in accordance with your deplorable attitude and behavior.”  He opened his mouth to speak but Yennelyn cut him off. “No, you curb that ill-tempered tongue of yours until I am finished. These people, your friends, care about you and you disrespect them with your cantankerous prattling and complaints. So borrowing the perfect sentiment from Sera: _Shut it_. Say ‘thank you for your concern’ and enjoy that everyone, _including me_ , is concerned for your well-being and wishes to see you healed. Have I made myself clear?” 

Yennelyn in all the years they were acquainted never spoke kind words to Dorian. Every sentence was usually laced with venom and disdain. She was different now.

He spoke softly but did not lower his gaze. “I apologize. Thank you for your concern, my Lady.”

Yennelyn huffed. “Just stop. We are both aware that you knew me before this mess with my memories which means you and Hawke hide more from me than you share. I find _her_ reluctance to tell me anything of my past troublesome.  If you add Cullen to this mystery it means all of you wish to keep perhaps unpleasant information from me. I wonder if I should be angry or thankful.”

“If you still wish to learn about your past, when we return from Adamant, I will tell you what I can. Cullen may finish what he started with me, but I will give you the information you seek.” Dorian knew of the consequences of sharing her past, but he wondered if it might help her to learn about her past and how so many respected now her as the Inquisitor.

Yennelyn did not move away. “I would like one small detail clarified and then I will respect your offer. What am I to Cullen?”

Dorian shook his head. “There is nothing small about your request. The story is much involved and I would prefer to wait until after we are safely back in Skyhold. Instead I will share something about Cullen. There are very few people in Thedas who know him well. You, my dear Inquisitor, are one of the even smaller group who are aware of all his secrets and it is for _this_ reason we shall hold our discussion for another day.”

Hawke and Varric watched the exchange and waited until Yennelyn sped up her horse towards the front of the caravan.  They exchanged a quick glance before she too sped up her horse and matched the cart carrying Dorian. “You caved.“ She said.

Dorian took exception to her accusation. “No, I did not _cave, but_ she deserves to be told. I know what you are thinking and yes, Yennelyn despises me. I believe she once told me ‘may you die a thousand deaths each one more horrific than the last.’ Charming, don’t you think?”  He continued. “The point, oh great Champion is the _Inquisitor_ is not Yen, may that beast be forever lost in the recesses of her mind. The Lady Yennelyn has a real heart. She deserves the truth.”

Hawke snorted. “I don’t miss Yen at all either, but if she - the Yen we all love to hate returns? We’re all in some serious shit.”

Dorian sighed. “True, Hawke and some of us more than others.” He inhaled deeply and spoke as he exhaled. “Some of us more than others.”

_“One more word, Dorian, just a single word and I will end you.” Her voice thick with anger, Yennelyn did not care who heard her._

_“With but a handful of words, I seal your fate, princess.” He feigned a gasp and bit his fist in his mouth, affecting the air and voice of a noblewoman “I found the Archon’s daughter!”  His voice penetrated through her and forced a wince he did not miss in her expression. His affectation complete, he narrowed his eyes and spoke again. “When you have you nothing to lose, my dear, you will do the unthinkable. End me, here and now. I await my end at your hand.”  Dorian stretched his arms wide and gestured around the top floor of the inn._

_Yennelyn stomped down the stairs and left Dorian standing alone. When the door to the inn slammed shut, he sat down next to Cullen._

_“Was that necessary?” Cullen asked._

_Dorian scoffed.  “You can play the idea that her anger doesn’t impact your moods, but I know better. Play at being calm with others, but not with me. We need to find Dorothea. That’s all I said to her and you see what happened. Only she knows who this Dorothea is and where we might find her. Instead of answering the question, I’m a target for extermination.”_

_Cullen sat forward and leaned on the table. “She’s scared, Dorian. I feel it, she doesn’t understand. Like I was the first few weeks, remember?”_

_The first few weeks after Cullen’s transformation were the hardest for him. He could not control his emotions. “How can I forget? What was the tally . . .four tables, ten chairs and so many mugs, barrels and the like?”_

_Cullen smiled but his voice stayed low. “Something like that, I apologized eventually.”_

_“Eventually. This is not the same and you can tell. What do you see or what does the Witcher not the lover see?”  Dorian asked._

_Cullen took no offence to Dorian’s question. “Yen is like me, like Morrigan.”_

_Dorian leaned forward and whispered. “Morrigan? The witch you met during the Blight? She was. . .”_

_Cullen kept his voice just above a whisper. “We discovered much more when Flemeth’s grimoire was found. Flemeth’s daughters were developed for certain traits. The eyes gave it away. Morrigan didn’t have enhanced senses, but her magic? She was a shifter and you know how rare that is – all but lost and yet in the wilds a woman is born a shifter? Not likely, not even to Flemeth.” Cullen did not meet Flemeth during the Blight and could not say what she was or what she could do. Morrigan had shared much of her history and the grimoire itself was so advanced it was evident to him that Flemeth’s power was stronger and more lethal than any witch he’d encountered._

_“So Yennelyn is– like Flemeth or Morrigan?” Dorian asked._

_“Possibly, but it’s her violet eyes that confuse me.  The yellow iris comes from the mutagen for beast and animal traits; we learned that from the trials but violet, I can’t say.  Dorothea, wherever she is must know what needs to be done. I need to get Yen to Ferelden or Orlais”_

_Dorian disagreed. “No, you need to give her back to the Archon, there is something not quite right about the princess and you need not be pulled into the Archon’s plans.”_

Dorian looked out over the stretch of the expanse and by the landscape they were nearing their destination. He shivered, not from the cold but from an old memory of tales told him as a child. “The Abyssal Rift, a darkspawn destination.”

Hawke’s horse kept pace with the cart. “What’s a little darkspawn between friends?”

He leaned his head back and watched the aurora overhead, brilliant colors of green and purple, hues of red and yellow and varying shades of blue. “Cullen loves the Approach, are you aware of this? Apparently it’s one of his favorite hunting grounds. Have you ever heard the legends about the varghest? It’s one of his favorite, blighted creatures prefer to keep the prey alive before they return to their nests.“

Hawke shook her head.

“Let me see . . .it was once believed the varghest was a spirit revealed to the land in living flesh. They were the embodiment of vengeance, hunting down those whose foul and dubious acts against their own blood deserved retribution befitting their crime. When the varghest would find the offender, the guilty soul would be dragged to the gods for judgement. Oh, and let remember the phoenix, creatures so toxic they belch gas reeking of rotten eggs and rancid swamp water and lest we forget the Approach is crawling with darkspawn.  A lovely holiday spot, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hawke snickered as she rode. “If you need something to do after all this is over, might I suggest a children’s book? Your descriptions are sure to delight parents and children alike.”

He laughed. “Perhaps, we should try to survive what’s coming first.”

 

**Western Approach**

The darkspawn hammer Cullen picked up, unwieldy for most, proved the fastest way to dispatch the three remaining hurlocks.  With a twinge of reluctance he dropped the hammer and continued towards Adamant.

Cullen reviewed what little he could see.  _There’s no way in over those walls. I could attempt to scale it, maybe use the siege spike – but even then it’s not likely._

Alistair leaned against a barren tree trunk.   “You could knock, I’m sure _someone_ would let _you_ in, Witcher. I see you travel without your pet. Compassion is a useless ally.” 

 _Cole is Compassion. That makes sense, I should have realized his ability to pull out the exact memory needed to help with what is needed most. I can’t allow Envy to continue._  Cullen snarled at the manifestation of Envy. “Just fight me, enough games or are you afraid that one Witcher might get the better of you.”

Cullen could not be sure of the demon’s prowess at night. He slowly released his silver sword from its resting place and waited for the attack he knew would come.

_______________________

“Take care of yourself, Sparkler. I’m riding on ahead with the Inquisitor and the forces. Those war machines will roll up in just a few minutes.”  As he finished several Inquisition soldiers barreled past on horseback and then another stopped his horse wildly off to the side of the cart.

“Ser Varric! You’re needed up ahead!” The soldier said barely holding himself in the seat as the horse moved back and forth.

Varric laughed. “Ser Varric, huh? I like how that sounds, but that ain’t me kid. What’s the problem?”

Varric watched as Cassandra and Vivienne, seated together sprinted on their horse towards the front of the column.

Dorian climb out of the cart and winced from the pain in his shoulders. “Give me that horse, young man!”

“But Ser, you are supposed to –“ The soldier started.

“Damn it man, the horse now!” Dorian yelled. The soldier jumped down and held the bridle of the horse for Dorian to seat himself. “I may not be able to hold a staff, but I can still help. Varric, let’s go.” He turned the horse around to face their destination.

“Oh shit. Here we go. What’s going on up there?” Varric yelled as the soldier followed on foot.

“There’s two of them Ser!” The man shouted back.

Varric and Dorian pushed their mounts as fast and the horses could sprint up to the front of the column. Dorian pulled back on the reins and carefully slid down out of the saddle. “I can’t fight; too much pain but I will do what I can.  Where are we- oh my giddy aunt? There are two of them?”

Cullen squared off against himself – two Witchers both alike in appearance, with no discernable difference. Swords connected neither one gaining ground against the other. Yennelyn retreated from her position with Commander Rylen to join Dorian and Varric. “How do we help? Which is the real Cullen? Rylen is moving the trebuchets into position and we need to make sure they have protection.”

Dorian, Varric and the others gathered watched as the two fought as a mirror image, each turn executed with precise perfection, each slash and spin met head on. A roll to the right and a dodge to the left gave no hint, no proof to which was the true form.

Cole appeared behind Varric. “Can’t you remember the signs? Must I go through this every time?”

_“Cullen, why can’t you remember the signs? Must I go through this every time?” Dorian’s patience ran out. “Pay attention! “_

_Cullen’s exhaustion added to his anger. Every word punctuated by Cullen’s lungs trying to fill with air. “Maker take you Dorian, I’ve been at this session for hours. I can’t. I’m just a man.” Dorian wove a healing spell around him and tossed his a vial of Swallow potion._

_“You can and you will. Cullen, there will come a time when you are exhausted and angry and ready to give up and I tell you this  - you will not fail. You will stand up and fight until you cannot swing a sword and until the last of your stamina runs dry. You are a Witcher. Now move!” Dorian could see the end of his strength looming near and needed to prove to Cullen he was more than man._

_Cullen moved to his knees and pushed off the ground to stand.  Dorian tossed another vial. “A new potion, Cullen, this one is named Tawny Owl will speed up your vitality regeneration. You have two potions running through you.”_

_Cullen breathed heavily. “The poison, what of the poisons?” Dorian taught him about the nature of the potions he used would poison him as he added more._

_Dorian shook his head. “Minimal, both will simply run their course through your system. Now, enough rest. Aard! Yrden! Igni! Quen!“ Dorian called out all but the Axii sign._

_Cullen matched the call as fast as he could._

The battle continued as one would lose ground only to gain it back on the next attempt. The two were matched blow for blow. Cullen, the true Cullen could see the group gathered and the troops continue to prepare for the siege of the tower. He was thankful the Wardens had not thought to abandon their stronghold and attack the forces head on and then an idea struck him. He rolled away towards the tree.

Yennelyn watched with Dorian as one of the two moved to the left towards a barren tree. The other stood and leaned on his sword. “Which one, Dorian?” Yennelyn needed to be right. She watched as the Cullen nearest to her planted his sword in the dirt and removed a string from around his wrist. She watched in wonder as he stopped and tied his hair back. The second pulled his sword to the ready and charged. The first continued to fiddle with his hair until the second was inches from him. Dorian gasped as a blast of power sent the second Cullen backwards.

 _Aard_. Dorian thought. He primed a fire barrage and called out “Quen!” Dorian smiled as the Cullen closest to them put up a shield as the barrage left him. Fluid lines of red flames glanced off of the shield. Cullen grinned and faced Dorian and Yennelyn. She fought the urge to laugh as he winked from inside his shield. The demon recognized his failure  and roared.

“Inquisition, bring the demon down!” Commander Rylen called all gathered nearby. Magic of all kinds flew at the reformed Envy looming over the makeshift battlefield.  Cullen charged Envy and unleashed a torrent of hacking blows overpowering the demon on his right side and he renewed his shield to protect from the magic sent towards them both. Arrows pierced the demon’s neck just above the shoulder. The fletching was yellow and red. _Sera, she’s quite the archer_. Cullen thought as he spun away when Varric called out another warning of an incoming volley. Cole caught Cullen’s eyes as he appeared behind Envy and plunged his daggers into Envy’s falling frame; but Cullen took the killing blow slicing first upwards across the midsection and then severing the demon’s head.

Cullen strolled towards Dorian and Yennelyn while the Inquisition troops continued their push to prepare. He stopped just in front of them and shook his head. “Do you ever listen, Dorian? Perhaps I should have delivered my message in Tevene? Sorry about the. . .” Cullen gestured towards Dorian’s shoulders.

“I’ll forgive you this time. I take it our friend there was looking for me?” Dorian asked gesturing with a nod of his head towards the patch of land where the demon fell.

Cullen nodded. “The Elder One promised Envy the Inquisitor as a prize. When that plan fell apart, and we went to Therinfal it tried to take me, but wasn’t strong enough and claimed you as its prize.”

Dorian understood what Cullen tried to prevent. Envy demons do not let their targeted victims live once copied; the true self is killed to prevent detection. “The demon taking _your_ form was a desperation tactic in hopes we would kill the wrong Cullen.” Dorian offered.

“Maybe, I won’t say I have any more insight into it than you.” Cullen turned slightly to Yennelyn. “You should prepare yourself. Adamant is full of demons and Wardens, formidable foes. Let me see your daggers.”  Yennelyn handed over her basic daggers to him; they were uneven not balanced well and too heavy for her. Cullen pulled out the two daggers he took from the Winter Palace. The Empress allowed him to keep the weapons he retrieved during the events in Halamshiral.  “Try these two, much lighter, better and balanced.”

“Shall I cry a tear now, sharing weapons, how sweet.” Dorian quipped.

Dorian and Yennelyn flinched as the trebuchets fired against the walls of the fortress. The resounding impact again and again shook the ground.

Cullen checked his blades, slipped Yennelyn’s old daggers into his harness and readied to go. “Dorian, you should find cover with those staying out of battle. Inquisitor, it’s time to gather your party.” Cullen smiled. “See you.”

The continued sonorous boom of hit after hit signaled the siege of Adamant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like this? Leave me a comment or kudos!


	12. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition prepares for the siege at Adamant. Cullen waits with Hawke and Stroud and hopes the Wardens will see reason.

Broken

To the uninvited, walls seem stronger, time appears to slow and patience runs thin. Hawke and Warden Stroud flinched with each impact along the walls. The battering ram connected rhythmically with the massive entry doors signaling the Inquisition’s perseverance; they would breach Adamant soon.  “Any bloody day now!” Hawke yelled over the synchronous impacts against stone and her patience. “What is taking them so long?”

“You could go help them protect the battering post if you need something to do.” Cullen answered even though he knew she did not want a response. “Could be anything, Hawke. Calibration could be off; those things require constant calibration. Only a man who is obsessed or lonely seeks to constantly fiddle with trebuchets.” Cullen said pulling out several vials and linen; he needed to prepare his exposed skin for prolonged contact with Wardens inside the fortress.  “The ladders will reach but you would be cut down by rock, arrow or blade before you reached the top. Each impact along those walls will weaken the stone and believe me, when even a few stones loosen, those along the walls will scatter and when that happens, then we move.”

Hawke grunted in disgust. “Is there anything you don’t know? Please tell me there is at least one thing you cannot do.” She nodded as a memory took hold. “I almost forgot. You can’t cook for shit, damn near poisoned us one night.”

Cullen chuckled. “If I remember right Hawke, I tried to tell you I couldn’t cook ,and you insisted.”

“You’re right, but it’s nice to know you can screw up once in a while.” Hawke turned and yelled again. “Maker’s breath, stick us in one of those damnable machines and get us inside.” Hawke’s agitation at the continued delay neared the point where she would take unnecessary risks; both men she stood with knew this well.

Stroud tried to reason with Hawke. “That would be inadvisable. We would be crushed from the impact.”

Cullen would not listen to her complaints any longer. He approached her and smiled, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Tell you what, Hawke, stop this complaining or I will carry you over to where Dorian is sitting this out and the two of you can take tea and complain what a bastard I am. So what do you think?”

Hawke nodded and moved aside as Cullen continued his preparation. He needed to cover as much skin as possible. Stroud watched as Cullen applied a liquid concoction to his hands face and neck before pulling on gauntlets and a hood.

Stroud knew of the concerns with darkspawn blood and the animosity of old between the Witchers and Wardens. “All this precaution, may I ask to what end?”

Cullen adjusted the hood to cover as much as possible. “All this precaution, as you put it, keeps me from hurting the Wardens we are trying to save. The goal is for you to make the Wardens understand, not to annihilate them.”

Stroud bowed his head. “It shames me to admit were situations reversed the Wardens would seek the extinction of the Witchers. You surprise me with your honor. Perhaps when our obligations are complete, we may learn from one another.”

Hawke snorted from her position atop a crate. “Sure, now you want to play nice. Until this evening you’ve been pressuring me to rethink my association with Cullen.”

Cullen glared at Hawke. “What was that again about play nice? If it is too difficult for you to get along, I’m perfectly capable of going alone.”

Hawke jumped off the crate and stomped over to Cullen poking her gloved finger into his chest armor. “Oh no, not this time, Cullen, you are not leaving me behind. I am sick and fucking tired of getting left behind. Are we clear?”

Cullen tilted his head down to look at her with a straight face. “Then pull on your big girl armored smalls.”

She snorted and headed back to the crate to wait. “You’re a real asshole and _don’t_ apologize for me Stroud.” Hawke pointed towards the Warden. “Cullen is more than used to my behavior by now.”

Warden Stroud placed his hand on his chest and bowed. “My sincerest condolences.”

Cullen inclined his head in response. “Likewise.”

Hawke threw up her hands and cursed as the two men shared a smile.

Hawke stood and turned towards the trebuchets. “Would it help if I threw a few rocks?” She yelled.  As if the walls themselves had grown weary of Hawke’s constant whine, a loud explosion declared success followed by the crumbling rubble as the first of the walls fell. Cullen followed the precision of Rylen’s troops as the ladders and tie lines raised in succession.

Cullen looked at both warriors. “Let’s go. I’ll focus on the demons; you take the Wardens. Stroud, make them stop; make them understand.” Stroud acknowledged Cullen with a quick nod of his head.

At the base of the ladder, Cullen checked his equipment again and turned to Hawke and Stroud. “Maker watch over you.” Cullen did not see the surprise registered on Stroud’s face as he raced up the ladder and into the fray.

Hawke shook her head. “Just go with it, Stroud. It’s too complicated to explain.” She followed.

The battlements proved to be difficult. As soon as Cullen cleared the ladder, he turned to help Hawke; her staff threw off her balance as she climbed. She mumbled her thanks and moved to the left. Stroud followed within seconds and Cullen directed them to search the left side while he took the right. He rolled his neck and shoulders and withdrew his blade. The Shades had taken this side of the fortress and Cullen could see a Rage Demon further away from him.

The first Shade and his Warden Archer attacked. The Shade reared to full height and surged towards him. Cullen rolled to his right and knocked the bow from the Warden’s hands. He drew a Quen sign to activate his shield and lunged for the bow reaching it before the Warden. He retreated and tossed the weapon over the side to his right. The Warden looked on as Cullen rounded on the Shade and dispatched him with several short swipes.

The Witcher pushed past the Archer without a single blow attacking the next Shade moving in their direction. Cullen could not attack with the Warden standing in stunned silence. Cullen removed his hood and growled, “Move! I’m not here for you or the Wardens. Go!” The man gaped at the Witcher and ran leaving Cullen to his work. The field cleared, Cullen spun to his left and right with a hard strike of his sword. Ignii unleashed, the Shade returned to the Fade amidst a blast of flame.

Yennelyn saw Cullen fight the Shade on the right side battlement. Rylen was right; they needed to clear the battlements first. Hawke and Stroud were already inside and Cullen worked alone high above them. His foe defeated, she smiled. In that moment he looked down from the battlement. A slight bow and he pulled his hood back over his face. Cassandra called her and Yennelyn joined her party.

Cullen took a deep breath as he continued towards the Rage Demon. “What was that about?” He did not have time to dwell on Yennelyn as two Wardens blocked his path. “Spellbinders.”  Cullen did not want to bend the will of the Wardens with his Axii sign; he was not sure he could control a Grey Warden. Cullen advanced on the two mages; he needed to close the distance between them to draw the sign.

“Incoming!” Cullen heard Varric’s unmistakable voice from behind him.

“Varric.” He said. Cullen wheeled around and sprinting out of range taking the Wardens by surprise as a volley of at least thirty arrows converged on the Spellbinders. Cullen shook his head as none of the arrows hit their targets. The volley served another purpose, scaring the Spellbinders into retreat further back into the fortress.  He heard Sera, Varric and Bull laugh as they cleared the ladder and joined him. 

“Varric, a little more warning next time. . .maybe a little accuracy.” Cullen stood and adjusted his harness.  “There’s a Rage Demon up ahead, you coming with me or staying here?”

Varric stowed Bianca to talk. “Bull here thought you needed a little help, and I promised the Inquisitor I would watch out for you, so lucky you, Curly. I bring you a dwarf, an elf and a Qunari.”

Bull chuckled. “There’s a joke in there somewhere.” He moved behind Cullen. “I should return the favor for Dorian, but I guess thank you will have to be enough.”

Cullen gave a curt nod. “Tell you what Bull, when we’re back in Skyhold, I’ll give you one free shot at me in the sparring ring.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Witcher.” Bull replied.

 A mix of gagging noises and laughter from Sera caught the attention of Cullen and Bull. “You little boys can compare sizes later. See, over there? Very bad things heading this way. So shut it!”

Sera was right, the Spellbinders were back with reinforcements. As Cullen sprinted towards the Rage Demon and Spellbinders his thoughts flashed to Yennelyn and the hope she fared better.

____________________________________

“Solas! The demon!” Yennelyn squared her shoulders only to be yanked backwards by strong hands.

Stroud pushed her behind him and Hawke guided Yennelyn behind her. “Stay here. He’ll kill me if something happens to you.” Yennelyn felt the magic barrier raise around them.

“I’m not helpless!” Yennelyn yelled as Hawke and Stroud attacked the Pride Demon with Solas. Cassandra faced two Warden Archers and a Spellbinder; before she could move Cole cut down the first archer followed by the second. She turned to see the Pride Demon fall to its knee and then disappear.

Hawke returned to Yennelyn. “Inquisitor, trust me I _know_ you are more than capable but for now, let me help you while you will accept my help.”

The party searched for the final rally point on the battlements before seeking Warden Commander Clarel. Yennelyn sped up to catch Hawke. “I’ve had enough ambiguity from you, Varric and Dorian. The image of me I glean from this constant avoidance and secret glances infers I am a horrid, miserable creature to be feared and loathed.”

Hawke stopped and sighed. “Listen. You and I have not agreed in the past, but you’re different now and you’ve done so much for Thedas. I don’t think we’ll ever sit around a campfire telling stories to each other, but I will give you the same promise as Dorian. When this ends, ask your questions. I’ll deal with Cullen.” Hawke inclined her head toward the others. “Come on, don’t want to get left out of the fun now do we?”

Yennelyn barely smiled in response but followed Hawke towards the others. _Cullen. It always comes back to you, doesn’t it?_ Yennelyn did not realize that her silent call to him could be heard.

_________________ 

Cullen felt his focus shift as Yennelyn called out to him barely dodging an Ice Spike from the Despair Demon they faced.

“Hey, Curly! Focus on the old scary thing here, mind off the girl!” Varric bellowed.

Sera flew up from Bull’s boost and unleashed several arrows. “Wait – what girl?”

“Sera, pay attention, never mind the girl!” Varric countered urging Bianca to find her target he fired towards a Spellbinder.

“Ha! Nug humper! Got him!” Sera crowed after two more shots fired at the Spellbinder pierced his neck and he flopped down without moving again. “Cullen’s got a girl?”

Bull laughed. “Oh yea!” He called back over his shoulder, his ax swiping up through the Shade in front of him.

Cullen ignored the conversation and continued his assault on the Despair Demon casting the Ignii sign to finish the demon and turned to Bull as he returned his blade to its place. “We’re not having this conversation now.”

Sera laughed. “Cullen on tunnel patrol? Squishing the gibbly bits?”

Varric coughed to hide his laugh as Sera continued. “Sera not now.” Bull tried to hold his laughter in but failed.

 “But he’s old!” Sera said. “It’s not like old people can slay the vadragon if you know what I mean.”

Cullen could not believe they were discussing this at all. He straightened and walked towards the center passage.

Varric shook his head. “Slaying the. . . I need to remember that one.”

Sera hopped over the body of the Spellbinder and skipped after him. “Wait! Don’t be grumpy! What’d I say?”

Bull secured his axe to his back strap. “Quit while you still can, Sera.”

Cullen turned around and waited for Sera. She jumped to a stop in front of him. Cullen leaned over to whisper in her ear. She blushed a deep red as Cullen pulled away and winked at her.

Varric and Bull joined her. “What was that all about?”

Sera giggled. “I almost pissed myself but he's dead sexy when he's all grumpy and angry. If I went for old danglies he’d be my first choice.”

The three continued their discussion while Cullen tried to ignore any more conversation about sex and his age. A large black shadow passed over them. The dragon, Corypheus’ dragon was here. Cullen sprinted towards the tower at the center. He yelled back over his shoulder. “Stop your gossiping ladies and go help the others. Corypheus might be near.” He placed a fallen ladder against the stones and looked back to see the three searching the sky above them. “Go!” He yelled. He muttered to himself as he climbed the ladder. “This bitch is mine.”

____________________________

Below in the courtyard Yennelyn and Stroud tried to reason with the Wardens. Cullen’s perch atop the wall afforded the best view but his attention fixed on the dragon above him. The crossbow at this distance would do no damage to such a powerful creature, but it might anger him enough to change its focus to Cullen. He would try the same maneuver Riordan attempted during the battle of Denerim. Leap from high enough to mount the dragon at his neck and take him down.

_“There’s too many of them! Get to the tower steps!” Alistair yelled. “Cullen! Leave it; I need you in that tower! Take the Legionnaires and clear it out!”_

_Cullen fought with two ogres, Morrigan stood not far behind him blasting out ice spell after ice spell to slow them down. “Then stop your whining_ your majesty _and get over here! I don’t think I can throw a bone and they’ll chase it!”_

_Alistair hurried towards the fray. “So you understand.” Alistair bashed the ogre with his shield. “I wasn’t whining.” He slashed to his left and then swiped right as Morrigan’s lightning spell knocked the ogres down. Unfortunately, both Alistair and Cullen could not escape her final blast._

_Alistair bent over at his waist from the pain and Cullen dropped to one knee. “Watch where you point that Morrigan, it hurts just a little when you hit us too.” Alistair said._

_Morrigan smirked. “The pain hurts only a little . . . I must be slipping, I will endeavor to use more force next time.” Morrigan and Solona healed the party. “If you stand before me, you will be hit; little I can do to change how magic behaves Alistair. Cullen stands off to my left; he understands the way magic works.”_

_Cullen was no longer listening to the discussion. The Archdemon filled the sky overhead and Cullen could see the figure of a man struggling atop him. “Riordan,” Cullen said, “he must hope to weaken the dragon.” The Archdemon flew higher out of Cullen’s range of vision but he could see the sudden lurch and curl of the beast. “He must have stabbed the dragon!” The others did not look up in the sky but watched Cullen’s face as followed the battle between Warden and Archdemon. The dragon changed his flight and flew up towards the tower. Cullen made a fist and tightened it as the dragon reared back and roared in pain._

_“What is it? What is happening?” Solona asked._

_“A significant cut, Sol. The Archdemon is wounded.” His face fell as he watched a figure tumble off the Archdemon and plummet to the ground. Cullen dropped his shoulders. “Riordan. . .failed.” Cullen met Alistair’s eyes. They both knew one of them would have to take the final blow and Cullen would not allow his friends to sacrifice themselves. “He’s wounded. We have to hurry.”_

Cullen watched as the dragon changed direction headed towards the courtyard and Yennelyn. “No, no no.” Cullen realized he was too far away and slid down the ladder he tumbled the last few feet and rose to his feet. The dragon was advancing and Cullen was out of time. A massive rift opened in the courtyard and the empty battlements suddenly filled with demons. Shades converged on Cullen’s position but his attention focused on the dragon and Yennelyn’s party. He watched her ascend the stairs and disappear from view across the other side of the fortress.

“Maker take you, I can’t stay here all day!” Cullen cut the first Shade down.

“Curly, Go! We’ve got this!” He turned to see Varric, Bull and Sera running towards him.

Cullen stowed his blade. “I hate that damn name,” he grumbled as he took off. Cullen took the higher wall as the shortcut to Yennelyn’s party and the correct path to reach the dragon.

The dragon hovered and flapped its wings rising to the upper battlements. Cullen could make out something in the dragon’s maw. He cringed as he realized it was a figure and followed as the victim, thrown from the dragon’s jaw’s and landed on the stones below. He climbed the edge toward the beast and glanced below at the body; he could see the insignia on the armor. “It’s a Warden, Clarel or another high rank maybe,” he spoke aloud.

The beast descended from the upper battlements and stalked after the Warden. Cullen’s eyes followed ahead of the Warden to see Yennelyn and the others trapped between the beast and a drop off. He was nearing the dragon’s position. “I need a few more minutes, give me a few more minutes.”

Cullen cleared the wall and readied for the drop. Lightning magic filled his vision as the dragon roared in pain and rolled towards the drop off. The dragon disappeared off the edge into the darkness. He heard the crumbling of stones and watched as Yennelyn and the others tried to outrun the outcropping of stones as they fell apart. His heart dropped as the entire pathway collapsed. He waited for the emptiness Dorian once warned him would take place at death of the other.

_“This is no simple magic Cullen; you do understand this, yes?” Dorian started. “Once the binding is complete, you will know where the other is and when they need you most. The emotions, memories all of what you share will be much more than what you experience separately – I want to be clear.”_

_Cullen was no longer listening to Dorian’s warnings and discussion. “Fine, get on with it Dorian.”_

_Yennelyn’s scowl deepened. “Dorian, enough prattle. We both accept what this means to us, just stop talking, please.”_

_“Here I am, in awe of the resurgence of the harpy. A creature long thought extinct in Thedas suddenly appears before me with such eloquent speech. Tell me, princess how long will you wait to betray him? A week or perhaps a month, shall we wager on when it will be that you break his heart and spirit?”_

_Cullen ran his hands through his hair. “Dorian, we’ve been through this already and if you object I will find another to do the binding, is that plain enough for you?”_

_Dorian scoffed. “No, I cannot allow some halfwit mage to bind you.” Yennelyn laughed. “Not a word, princess – I’m helping because_ he _asked,_ you _I cannot and never will trust.” He continued. “One final warning, if you are still bound and one of you should. . .die, the books all speak of emptiness and longing unlike any human loss and warn that it can prove overwhelming for the weak.”_

_Cullen released Yennelyn’s hands and joined his friend. “I know, I read the accounts. This is what I want.” Cullen could not explain everything to Dorian. What started as a mission had become so much more. When they met, he had to insist on the binding to complete his mission and now he needed it for himself._

_Cullen’s expression softened as he looked on his friend. Dorian sighed. “You’ll remember to look for me if and when you change that stubborn mind of yours.”_

_Yennelyn glared back at Dorian. Even without the binding magic, Cullen could tell she had no patience left. “Dorian, I promise you there will never come a time when I come looking for you and in that unlikely event, I’d suggest you run.”_

_Cullen rolled his eyes as the two continued to bicker. “Compromise, as long as I live, you two cannot go at each other’s throats are we clear?” Cullen watched as Dorian feigned a smile._

_“Hardly seems fair, Cullen, after all you’ll live a longer life span than we.” Dorian countered._

_“Good. We understand one another.” Cullen replied a grin spreading across his face._

Cullen waited and felt nothing. “She lives.” He turned and raced down the stairs to the main courtyard.

Cullen found Blackwall and Bull fighting demons alongside Wardens and Inquisition soldiers. “Where did they go - the others?”

Blackwall finished off the Shade in front of him and turned towards Cullen. “A flash of green then nothing; we can’t close the Rift and they keep coming through.”

“Then they went into a rift, but where? What if I end up lost?” Cullen spoke to no one.

Blackwall touched Cullen’s shoulder. Cullen glared and moved away. “I apologize, I forgot myself. You can’t be serious, Witcher . . . Cullen. You don’t jump into a rift; no one knows what might happen.”

He looked at the Warden and shook his head. “I can’t leave with the others possibly lost in there either. If I don’t come back, tell Leliana what happened . . . she’ll know what to do.”

Another wave of demons prepared to breach into the courtyard; Cullen could see the Fade energy bleeding through to anchor itself from the Fade. “I need to do this now.”  Varric and Bull called after Cullen to stop as Sera screamed his name and he sprinted for the open rift. The moment he hit the barrier the weightlessness of his body startled him as he drifted to a stop in a landscape he’d seen only once in a nightmare.

__________________

_Cullen looked out over the landscape. Crags of black rock jutted out in impossible arcs and spires in a green hued sky. Swirls of black and purple clouds churned in unnatural patterns above him. Pieces of ancient towers floated in the air held by invisible forces. In the distance he could see tall black spires angrily pierce the violent skies. “The Black City . . . it must be.”  He was in an arena of a kind; a circular area at the edge of the expanse although further in a wall of rock formations with ledges jutting out in no discernable pattern lined one area. Beyond it, the expanse; endless emptiness littered with floating debris, the remnants of the forgotten._

_Cullen looked down and found himself in his Templar armor. “This is not possible. I was in the laboratory how is it I am here?” His throat clenched. “Maker, no. This is not my end. This is not my end!” Cullen’s voice echoed where there should be none._

_A little girl’s laugh rang out, startling him. Cullen turned towards the melodious laugh. She sat impossibly high on a ledge feet dangling over the side, kicking them back and forth. Blonde ringlets fell to her waist, and she played with a doll dressed as he, in Templar armor._

_“Away with you demon, my sister did not have a Templar doll nor was her hair as long.” Cullen would not fall for such a trick. His training as a Templar would serve him well wherever he stood._

_The child laughed again. “I’m not a demon, just a spirit. I didn’t mean to offend you.” She continued. “You don’t belong here and so I wondered why you are here.”  She moved to jump down._

_“No! You’ll be injured!” Cullen ran to her aid._

_She laughed again as small feet landed without effort. “You’re too soft to be a Witcher.” She grinned and in the contortion of her face Cullen grew uncomfortable. Her voice lost its child-like lilt and warped as well in a sing song tone. “Purpose before pride, Witcher.”_

_“So you are a demon. Maker, is this the trials of the mages? Is this a Harrowing?” Cullen backed away from the little girl._

_“Not very bright, either it seems.” She marched up to him and poked him with her finger. “Get this through that Templar brain of yours! I am not a demon and this is not one of your Harrowings.“ She clasped her hands behind her back and swung side to side._

_Cullen remembered. “It was not Mia who stood in that way, it was Rosalie. She used to swing back and forth on everything. Mia. . .she always. . .stood with her arms crossed or hands on hips. That was her way.”_

_The spirit laughed again. “But it does not matter for I am not Mia or Rosalie -  I am me. I wanted to see you, the first in so very many years. I am the Spirit of Purpose.”_

_Cullen took a step back. “Purpose?”_

_Purpose stepped closer and wagged a finger at Cullen. “What is your name?” She asked._

_Cullen almost refused to answer until something inside told him he must tell the truth. “Cullen Rutherford.”_

_“Now we can converse. Cullen, there are spirits who are not demons to help those in need. My brothers: Valor, Wisdom, Duty and Honor you know them well.  A Templar must walk with my brothers, but me? I am reserved for certain warriors, those who serve a singular path. You, Witcher, will walk with me - purpose before pride. Never forget you would sacrifice yourself so that others may live. Those who came before you possessed too much pride, too much self. You are different.  The Templar in you walks with my brothers and the Witcher walks with me. Never allow the other to take control.” She straightened her dress and fluffed her curls._

_Cullen smiled. “Mia did that often.”_

_Purpose continued. “She believed in you, you know; she believed you had a chance to make a difference. Don’t disappoint either of us.”_

_Cullen wanted to ask if he still lived, but the words would not form._

_Purpose covered her mouth with both hands and giggled. “You’re not dead, Cullen. A part of you is dying to let the Witcher inside. It must be so.”_

_He tried to hold the thoughts of pain and loss inside and blinked back any trace of tears._

_“It’s ok to be human, cry if you want to. Just remember your path, Cullen.” Purpose offered._

_Cullen did not understand. “What is my path? I served the Order and the Maker. Must I abandon my vows to be this Witcher?”_

_“What did you promise when you became a Templar? Valor, wisdom, duty, honor and faith you swore to walk in the path of the Order. All of these you will take with you, but I will keep you from fear, pride, despair and all those who would seek to keep you from your vows. The Witcher will do what he must, but you will do what you must and put others before you. Your Order, the Templars – they suffer from fear and terror, pride, despair and so many human failings, Cullen.”_

_“So you are telling me the Order is a failure because of human faults? I don’t want to be a Witcher if I can no longer feel.” Cullen said._

_“I knew you were smart. I’m here because for the first time in many years, a Witcher who understands and feels human emotion is about to be born and Cullen, I’m sorry but this will hurt.”_

_Cullen felt a fire in his veins and pain in slivers and shards cut his flesh. He bent forward and screamed as he felt his limbs shred._

_The Spirit of Purpose sighed. “Pity, the body dies so the Witcher can wake and although I wish we had more time, we will walk together soon enough, Cullen.”_

_Cullen’s screaming intensified as his sight was blinded by a growing yellow glow in front of him until he felt himself dissolve._

____________

The landscape was the same. Cullen expected to see the spirit running to greet him and laughed at his own arrogance. “It’s the Fade . . . maybe.” The large rift remained open and offered some reassurance he could return. “Now to look around and discover if Yen and the rest are here or get back.” He ran in the opposite direction of the rift opening to find a tunnel or undercroft of sorts under a rock formation.  Cullen wanted to keep pushing away from the Rift but knew it would not be the best idea to stray too far. He returned to the large open area and looked out over the expanse.

“None of this makes sense. This is exactly from my nightmare all those years ago.” He stepped back as crumbled columns smashed into each other beyond the edge.

Cullen’s thoughts wandered to Morrigan. They’d had discussions about the Fade during Blight. He wondered how she would react to his current situation. He affected as close to a woman’s voice as he could muster. “’Tis only the Fade Cullen. One wonders how the Witcher survived this long if such things are so foreign in comprehension.” Cullen shook his head. She’d been difficult when they returned from Halamshiral, but he knew he concerns were not only valid but of great importance to him as well.

_Morrigan sat in the gazebo avoiding all contact with anyone else. “I wondered if I would see you, Cullen. Have you come to forget the Lady?” Morrigan’s smug expression changed as his eyes caught hers. “Cullen, I’ve discussed this with the mage, Dorian. We can’t remove the magic without her and you must take more time to meditate and clear your head. These memories or visions will continue until you find a way to restore your Yennelyn or.“  Morrigan stopped._

_“Finish the sentence Morrigan, or what?” Cullen asked._

_Dorian joined them. “Cullen, you risk yourself, your mind. You may not wake. A Witcher is not meant to have emotions as you do and it is in this fact we failed to realize the purging of all emotion is for protection. In forcing you to retain your humanity, we made you vulnerable.”_

_The scowl on Morrigan’s face deepened. “You never should have bound them. He bears the weight, the pain and the memory of the magic while she is free. I must admit should the Lady regain her memory and her magic the clash with the mark she carries, it may destroy her and all of us. Skyhold may be able to contain that convergence but anywhere else? Pray to whomever you wish it does not happen outside these walls.”_

_Cullen scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”_

_Dorian and Morrigan exchanged glances both wide-eyed. “You know? Cullen, we can’t let her continue to run free, this has to be contained; how far will you go to protect her and at what risk to yourself?”_

_“I’m fine and I’ve delayed us.” Cullen pushed off from the bench and took the first step down before turning back to Morrigan. “Thank you Morrigan, you may not believe me but I am relieved you are here.”  Cullen left the gazebo, crossed the garden and entered the main hall._

Cullen prayed often Yennelyn would not regain her memories. Dorothea, whomever she is hid well from them. He’d searched and found no mage answering to that name and Yennelyn would never tell him where to look. Cullen left the safety of the Rift to search for the party but did not see the enormous Spider Demon heading in his direction.

_________________________

Yennelyn and Cassandra walked together. “I would offer a word of advice Inquisitor. These others do not see your strength. I believe you will prove yourself as you have done so with me.”

Cole nearly ran into Cassandra as he pushed between them. “He’s here.”  

Yennelyn saw Cole lost to his fears, his sensitivity to the spirits and Fade was pushing his own fear beyond his ability to cope. Yennelyn took his hand. “Who is here Cole, take a deep breath and slow down.”

Before Cole could share his news, four wraiths attacked from the right. Yennelyn followed Cassandra and charged using the daggers Cullen gave to her. She could not believe it when a wraith fell after one swipe of her dagger, her quick work spurred Yennelyn to continue taking on the next wraith. Hawke watched with narrowed eyes.

When Solas and Cole defeated the remaining two wraiths, Hawke approached Yennelyn. “Inquisitor, would you allow me to take a look at your daggers? They are lovely and I’ve never seen the like.”

Hawke took the first dagger, the one used on the wraith and raised the blade to her nose and sniffed.

“Champion, what are you doing?” Cassandra asked, the behavior odd to her eyes.

“Hawke, please, and call it a guess - the blade is treated with a foul smelling substance, no doubt reapplied when you sheath them. If I know Cullen, one is treated for spirits and the other for living creatures. Cullen wanted to give you any help he could, and it seems both are treated with his blade oils. The problem here is the oils will destroy the blade with time.” Hawke explained. “I should stop talking and move on.” She returned the daggers to Yennelyn and spoke softly to her. “He tries to protect you even when he can’t be with you. That should tell you something about him.”

Cole tried to talk to Yennelyn again. “He’s here, and he searched for you, but the demon. . .”

Solas leaned on his staff. “Cole is trying to tell you the Witcher is here looking for us and I admit I am intrigued how he managed . . .ah. I think I see and once again I am awed by his dedication. The Witcher must have entered the Fade there.” Solas pointed to their destination. “Cole must be able to sense that Ser Cullen is currently engaged with a demon of some strength if he cannot continue his search. We should move quickly as he may require assistance.”

Cassandra led the party up an incline flanked by strangely carved towers of stone. She gasped as a woman stood off to the right side, but still in plain view. Cassandra’s usual strength of voice failed her as the others crested the top of the incline and saw who waited for them. Cassandra’s feet dragged. Her thoughts moved to times past of whispered meetings and candid arguments. Most Holy, Divine Justinia -  the robes were hers; Cassandra recognized them as the ceremonial robes worn when the Divine donned the mantle of the Most Holy.

Cassandra found her voice. “Most Holy, but how is it possible?”

Yennelyn stood apart from the others as a panic rose within her at the first recognition she’d experienced since the Inquisition found her. She pushed through the others and stopped in front of the woman. “Dorothea?” Yennelyn felt a slight shiver run through her and her thoughts reach out to the one person who might understand.  _Cullen, help me be strong_.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, find me on tumblr eravalefantasy.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	13. Ruptured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is stuck in the Fade and unable to get to Yennelyn and the party. She must retake what was stolen from her and find the way out.

_Leliana tasked herself to look into Yennelyn, the real Yennelyn and the information she discovered concerned her enough to approach Divine Justinia. The Gallows in Kirkwall was in ruins, destroyed by what witnesses claim was a single woman. The stories were fanciful, odd languages - one scholar even claimed the voice cried out ‘make your final wish’ in an ancient Tevinter dialect. More witnesses both Templar and mage stepped forward to claim the Knight Commander turned into red lyrium and they witnessed statues walking off their moorings to fight. The only common thread was Lady Yennelyn Trevelyan of Ostwick._

_“May I speak plainly, Most Holy?” Leliana did not want to offend but the information she gathered on Yennelyn Trevelyan proved disturbing enough to warn the Divine._

_“You should always speak plain with me. You are concerned about the Lady Trevelyan.” Divine Justinia waited for Leliana to call this private meeting._

_Leliana handed over a folder. “She is not Lady Trevelyan. House Trevelyan had only sons.”_

_“I am afraid your information is incorrect. She is Lady Trevelyan, and it falls to us to keep her away from Tevinter. I believe a past acquaintance of yours has been contracted to assist in her . . .recovery. We must protect her, Leliana.”_

_The frown on Leliana’s face was more pronounced than she intended._

_“Leliana, I did not go through you for a reason, but I can see this troubles you. As always, I will rely on your complete discretion . . . sit, please.” Justina gestured to the chair in front of her.  “What do you know of Tevinter?”_

Leliana sat in her tower tapping her foot her thoughts a jumble of concern and duty. Morrigan knows as does Dorian. Cullen? He knew from the moment he set foot in Antiva. The Divine did not contract with Cullen, so who placed the contract? The Archon seems improbable; he sent out men to return her to his side.  There were days she missed traveling, but now was not among those days. Those gathered were meant to save Thedas and Leliana’s trust extended only to Cullen and Cassandra. One thought continued to threaten her usual calm. _If Cullen faces the unthinkable, would he follow through?_

____________

_Yennelyn tried not to breathe as she stood behind the curtains. She could not be seen, there were too many here that might know her. She listened as the messenger delivered Sister Nightingale’s message. “The Lion waits in Haven.”  Yennelyn knew the messenger spoke of Cullen. She heard the door close._

_“You may come out now, Renae.” Justina’s request carried the weight of a command._

_Yennelyn slipped out from the dividing curtain. “It’s Yennelyn, Dorothea; I haven’t gone by Renae since I was a small child – mother . . . she changed it.”_

_Justinia did not look up from her papers. “You must address me as Divine or Most Holy when others are around. Do not forget. I knew Davina well. She tried to take you away to bring you to the Chantry, but you were too young the first trip. I should not have let her return for you Renae, perhaps she would still live. But I will see my promise fulfilled; the Witcher waits and he will take you far from here - I trust this will not be a problem?”_

_Yennelyn shook her head. “No Most Holy, I assure you traveling with the Witcher is not a concern.”_

_Justinia nodded. She pushed a small stack of papers towards her desk. “These are your birth records; you will destroy them in the fire pit there.” The woman pointed towards the small well-shaped opening where a fire burned._

_Yennelyn picked up the scrolls and papers and fed them to the fire._

_Justinia stood. “Now you will keep your head down until I can have Akhaas Adaar of the Valo-kas take you away after the Conclave. Renae Regina, daughter of the Archon is hard enough to hide but this Yennelyn of Ostwick nonsense stops now. No more. Am I understood?”  Yennelyn was shaken for the first time in years. Justinia did not raise her voice in the slightest, but each word weighed on her heart as though she had been scolded from the heavens._

_Justinia joined Yennelyn at the fire pit. “Yennelyn Trevelyan, find me this afternoon and we will speak more of your mother. Remember, the Witcher knows and he will protect you - it is his duty to do so.”_

 Yennelyn’s head spun at the memories of the Conclave. She looked at Justinia standing before her. “You are not her, but you are no danger to us.”

The spirit explained about the Nightmare, the force behind Yennelyn’s lost memories. Solas noted Hawke’s growing agitation and drifted towards her.

“Something troubles you, does it not?” Solas asked. He was sure their concerns were one.

Hawke whispered. “Magic will follow memory and then what?”

Solas nodded. “We need Cullen, keep them moving.” Hawke acknowledged Solas’ suggestion.

_____________

Cullen rolled away as the spider tried to strike with its fangs again. “Why is it every spider I find is bigger than the last?” Cullen realized it wasn’t moving towards him. “You’re just the guard of the exit aren’t you? I caught you sleeping or is there something else happening elsewhere?”

He took several steps backwards to test his theory, and the spider did not move. Cullen closed his eyes and breathed deep while he stretched out his senses. Elation turned to concern as Yen’s signature floated faintly further away. “Her memory returns. Do not force my hand. Maker please, do not set me on this path.” He needed to find Yen and discover why her memories were returning and stop it.

He returned to the undercropping of rock to follow the way to the party. When he emerged from the other side a Fade barrier prevented him from continuing on; but  it was a cough and a feminine laugh followed by his name spoken that jarred him and forced him to turn around.

“Yen? How are you here?” Cullen took a step forward and then realized too late what stood before him. She stretched out her arms and Cullen fought back the urge to flinch as her body ripped in half. Muscle, tendon, sinewy strands coated the framed as it grew before him. Arms elongated, stretched to implausible length followed by the legs and as the tissue moved and expanded across the unreal sight before him he knew what would emerge.

___________________

Yennelyn stood alone blinking back tears. She knew she wasn’t the Herald. She didn’t believe in the Maker, but the revelation is not what troubled her. Her head swam in memories as they returned to her.

_She stood in front of the mirror, looking at the trousers and tunic she wore._

_“You look amazing, Yen. You’ll get used to it, those dresses aren’t practical for traveling, and having to unfasten that many buttons usually makes me want to slice the damned thing open with a dagger.”_

_She looked into the mirror and saw him wink. Shaking her head, she turned sideways, looked into the mirror and sighed. “Fine, I’ll get used to it, but I don’t believe you. I think you want me to wear these horrid clothes so we won’t have to take the dresses on the journey.”_

_Cullen left the bed and joined her at the mirror, slipping his arms around her. She sighed and felt her tension melt as she settled against him. He chuckled and whispered to her, “Maybe, or maybe the change make it easier for me to do –“  Cullen looked into her eyes in the mirror and wrapped his hand around her waist._

_She pushed back on him to break his hold. “No, Cullen. We have to get out of Qarinus, finish your business with Dorian and we need to go.”_

_She laughed as he stepped towards her slowly, stalking her. “No.” Yennelyn put her hands out in front of her, “Cullen, stop it you’re not funny.”_

_He stood straight and crossed his arms. “Yet, there you are laughing. If it isn’t funny why are you laughing?” A knock at the door interrupted them and Cullen’s playful smile dissolved._

_She watched as he aligned his left foot against the door and anchored his body against the heavy door and opened it enough to see who stood on the other side. Hushed voices alerted her to the urgency of the message. The conversation lasted a minute or two and Yennelyn jumped as the door closed with more force than necessary._

_“It’s time to go Yen, pack up only what you need take none of the clothes. You’ll need the cape with the hood, your gloves, boots and leave the rest. Dorian will take care of the rest. I need to talk with him, but we’ll be right outside.”  Cullen secured the pauldron to his shoulder and tightened his blade harness. Swords sheathed he slipped out into the hall._

_Yennelyn prepared the pack Cullen purchased for her to use. She lamented the loss of her clothes and wondered how just the clothes she wore and the spare would be sufficient on a journey. “Now you really are acting like a princess.  Concentrate, please.” She continued her preparations until a raised voice drew her attention. She listened long enough to tell Dorian was arguing with Cullen. In spite of her desire to give Cullen his privacy, she did not trust Dorian and leaned against the gap to listen. The voices were muffled, but she could hear Dorian, Cullen’s voice was a murmur to her ears._

_“You cannot be serious! Has she bewitched the very brains from your head? Deliver the princess to this Dorothea and leave her.”_

_She did not understand what Dorian meant by delivering her to Dorothea. Cullen’s response was far too muted for her to hear. Dorian responded._

_“How perfectly appalling, so you claim now that the mission is no longer important? Are you her self-appointed guardian or is this a new tactic in your arsenal you bed her to gain her trust? I wonder if she proves to be as Vincentius claims, will you protect Thedas or your own misguided heart and let her live?“_

_Yennelyn pushed away from the door and stumbled over her boots. Her thoughts a torrent of emotions, she could not process them fast enough and her voice barely able to croak out the words. “He doesn’t . . . I’m a contract? Dorian is wrong it’s not an act.”_

Cullen lied to her; all of it was a lie. He was not her love, but her guardian and if need be her executioner. 

Cole’s voice cut through her anger. “You’re wrong. How many scars are yours? How many more will he take for you; the Howler, the sea serpent, Par Vollen?  Every single mark is proof.” 

She stared back at Cole embarrassed at dismissing all Cullen had endured because of her. “I . . .Cole, I’m sorry.”

His agitation escalated further. “Every one of you use him and says nothing in return! He consumes his own pain and yours and. . .”

Solas hurried to Cole’s side, the boy pacing and gnashing his teeth, arms gesturing wildly. “Cole, it’s all right, look to me and let it go.” Solas’ voice a calm sea overtaking the storm in the boy’s eyes he touched Cole’s arm hoping to lead him back to them.

“No!” Desperate cries leading him deeper inside the one soul he should not look too deep. Cole pulled his arm from Solas’ calm and continued. “I burn. Maker do not . . .this is not my end!” Cole paced in ever tightening waves as his rant continued; the pace of a caged animal.

Solas spoke in earnest to Yennelyn. “There isn’t time, he goes too deep. My Lady, please!”

Yennelyn pushed through the others to reach Cole. He jerked away the first time her light touch breached the chaos surrounding him. Yennelyn fought back and tugged him into a hug. She’d known only parts of Cullen’s experiences, but this – she cried as she held Cole and struggled to hold her voice calm and steady. “Hush. You’re right, Cole. He deserves so much more from me.” She could feel a shift in the tensions of young man she held, a muscle in his arm unclench signaled she might reach him if she continued. “I once saw him eat his way through an entire bushel of apples and at the time I wondered if he would fall ill.”

Cole exhaled strong and deep then lifted his head and stepped backwards a trace of a smile on his face. “He was ill; he wanted to keep talking with you, so he ate.”

Yennelyn glanced at Solas. He nodded and inclined his head towards Cole to encourage more from her.

Yennelyn extended her hand to Cole. She was surprised he clasped her hand until she noticed his shoulder drop. “Cole?”

“He will be angry I looked there. He told me not to go, and I did.” Cole lamented.

Yennelyn tightened her fingers around his hand, enough to pull his face towards her. “No Cole, he will be concerned and will ensure you are unharmed.”

He released her hand and steadied himself. “Yes, that is what he will do. He is safe for now, but we should continue.”  Cassandra and the others walked on leaving Cole and Yennelyn at the rear.

“Thank you Cole, for Cullen. Thank you.” She offered.

“I like him. He is like me, we don’t fit.” Cole was so definite in his proclamation, of two who are not part of any group except their own. Cole’s walk, slow and cautious caught Yennelyn’s attention.

 _He is working through his experience in his head again_ , she thought as she followed him deeper into the Fade. She saw Solas waiting up ahead. “Cole? Live your experiences, not Cullen’s, that’s what he would want for you.”

Cole looked back at her, nodded once and hurried to catch the others. Yennelyn reached a small outcropping of rocks where Solas waited. “The Lady wakes, I see. Are you in any pain from the Anchor?”

“I feel no pain Solas, but I cannot touch any of my magic but I can feel it and this concerns me.”  

He looked down as if something on the ground caught his attention. Solas’ voice trailed in and out as he spoke . “It is not – uncommon or perhaps that is not the correct word in this case. I myself have known a time where magic was not there when I needed it, but in time it will return.”

“Is something troubling you Solas?” He smiled and shook his head, a curious gesture to Yennelyn.

He stood silent the internal struggle playing out on his face. “Apologies, I was lost in thought. It must be the Fade and a slight headache. We should continue, but I am at your disposal if you wish to try your magic again.” Hawke was right; he could not be sure how the Anchor would react to the influx of her magic. If the rumors were true, the Inquisitor could prove to be a danger to them all. The Witcher seemed to be the solution and until he could be found the Inquisitor must remain as peaceful as their situation allowed.   

Solas led the way but Yennelyn watched him with a wary eye. Yennelyn wondered if Cullen could still hear her. The distance between them and losing her magic disturbed her and despite her concerns of the truth her thoughts returned to Cullen. _Wait for me._  

A light touch grazed her shoulder.  “There’s something wrong. “ Cole stood next to her his head shook under his hat and he raised his eyes to meet her. “He doesn’t understand it’s not real. He’s fighting the illusion, and he needs help.”

“Hawke!” Yennelyn shouted.  The two women faced each other.

“Inquisitor?” The response was tentative almost wary.

Yennelyn dropped her head and spoke quietly. “Cole thinks Cullen is in trouble and I believe him; would you let me try your staff? I can’t bring out any magic but maybe there is just enough?”

Hawke smirked. “At least you didn’t say ‘please’ I don’t think I can stomach the real you and politeness.”

“If you prefer I could add ‘meddling bitch’ to everything I say right now. My point is I know who I am and not able to call on any magic is disturbing for me. If Cullen is in trouble, it’s my turn to rescue him, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hawke raised an eyebrow and handed over her staff. “It’s a start.” She watched as Yennelyn attempted to pull enough mana to activate the staff’s energies. Nothing happened.  “Inquisitor, give it time. You’ve become proficient with the daggers and that will have to suffice. We should continue.” Hawke accepted the staff from Yennelyn and pointed onward.

______________________

The Archdemon’s roar passed through and unsteadied him. Cullen widened his stance to keep balanced and as his focus shifted, the Archdemon returned to the visage of Yennelyn.  “You’re a Fear Demon, aren’t you? You’re my first and looks like I failed the test.” Cullen tried to pull out the information he knew about fear demons. “No, you’re not the demon, a lesser, taking the shape of my fear. You’re not complex, so if I concentrate on something specific I may fear. . .”

Cullen waited as Yennelyn morphed into ten large spiders. “I hate these things; the Hissing Wastes are littered with them but easier than the other.” Cullen rounded to his left and cut through the first spider and then spun to his right, taking the next creature out. Cullen shifted from his right to his left until all the spiders disappeared. A voice penetrated the silence.

_Ah, we have a visitor. . ._

“There’s my demon.” Cullen realized as the voice spoke to Yennelyn. Cullen listened as each of the companions in turn were the focus of harsh words from the creature that ruled this part of the Fade. _One of these days I need to learn the language of the elves. It’s possible, since I won’t have to wait for Dorian each time there is a lesson_.

_____________________

Yennelyn knew her companions were agitated by the Nightmare’s revelations. Justinia urged her to recover her memories and move on. She stretched out her arm and drew the energies to her when the Nightmare spoke again.

_Did you think I’d forget you, my little pet? Not quite a beast and no longer a man. Did you really believe you deserve a life? Abomination, mutation, atrocity . . . shall I continue? When you prove no longer useful to those around you, will you be slaughtered or sacrificed as the animal you are?_

Hawke looked back at Yennelyn and the expression of shock and fear on Hawke’s face led the others to her focus – Yennelyn.  “Oh shit.”

Yennelyn’s arms moved apart from her body palms open. In each palm a sphere of violet energy churned mixed with wisps of black clouds. Her eyes appeared glazed and unfocused. Hawke could see the tension in Yennelyn’s body tighten with each passing moment. Muscles twisted and rippled even in her slight frame, she appeared as though some force constricted her in surge after surge.

Solas’ eyes widened at the waves of magic radiating from the Inquisitor. He turned back to look at Hawke. He did not see Cole reach out to her. Hawke’s jerking motion of her head told Solas to turn around in time to see Cole reach for her shoulder. “Cole, no, stop, you musn’t!”

Cole’s touch released the tension in the air and Yennelyn’s muscles relaxed. She shook her head clearing the remains of the unknown hold. “Don’t go.” Cole said. “He’s well. He doesn’t care. He wants to find you.”

Dazed, she nodded and continued to reclaim the energies of her memory.

_Yennelyn kept to herself as the various parties arrived at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. If she left her assigned room, she wore a cloak and hood. It was in this guise she entered a room held by the Valo-kas, a mercenary group. Yennelyn searched for a friend. Akhaar Adaar his parents left the structure of living under the Qun and settled in the Free Marches. He and his parents were Vashoth, the Grey Ones, no longer a part of the Qun but not accepted outside of it either. Akhaar’s edge and lack of tact was not learned from his parents, but from the constant fear and avoidance humans directed towards him. He turned that frustration inwards and trained for years until Akhaar eventually joined the Valo-kas mercenaries. Yennelyn was sure he was here._

_“Wrong room. Turn around and leave the way you came.” He was at least half a head taller than Cullen but the dark twisted horns leading straight back from his head and the ornate silverite breast plate with the gaping dragon’s maw made her certain. She’d found Akhaar. Yennelyn stepped further inside and closed the door behind her._

_The Qunari warrior pushed away from the table and stalked towards the intruder.  “I said, wrong room.”_

_Yennelyn stifled a laugh and threw out a single bolt of lightning at his feet._

_“Void take me. Yen? Only you would do something so stupid. Who let you in here? Is he here too because if he is I want to see people shitting themselves.” The Qunari put his hands on his hips and affected a lower voice. “ I’m a Witcher.” The table erupted in laughter. “Cullen has style, I’ll give him that. His motto should be ‘Soiling Breeches since 9:30 Dragon’. ”  Yennelyn joined in as more  laughter rang out  from the group seated around the room._

_She removed her hood. “Nice to see you too Aki and no Cullen is not here, I needed to come alone.”_

_Akhaar grumbled. “Akhaar, not Aki. You’re smart for a Vint, Ak-ha-ar. Did he dump you?”_

_Yennelyn liked Akhaar Adaar. Their paths crossed when Cullen was asked to help out with a prisoner transport. The whole operation was a double cross; a slaver wanted out of the business-  the Valo-kas was to take possession of the prisoners and transport them to Rivain. The claim was pirates had absconded with the slaves and the slaver was dead but Cullen and Akhaar were the only pirates involved._

_Akhaar pushed one of the others out of a chair and offered it to Yennelyn. “No, he didn’t dump me, really, Aki. He’s in Haven.” Yennelyn tried to sound convincing in her delivery. Akhaar raised an eyebrow and sat on the table._

_“All of you out - go find something to do. Take another sweep of the surrounding area and check on the Divine. Someone bring me something to eat, too. ” The others cleared out reluctantly many grumbled and hissed as they left. “Hey, less noises more movement.” He waited until the room was clear and then Akhaar turned his attention to Yennelyn. “Care to start over and tell me the truth?”_

_Yennelyn sighed and spilled what she was willing to share from Qarinus to Kirkwall. Time passed as she talked and Akhaar chased out anyone who tried to return to the room. He listened and did not speak until she finished. He moved to unbuckle his armor and spoke._

_“I hate this thing. It’s heavy, too hot and gets in the way often.” He said finally freeing himself from the unmanageable armor._

_“Then why do you always wear it?” Yennelyn asked._

_“That’s easy to answer. It’s a part of me, part of who I am.” Akhaar returned to a chair and rested his feet up on the table. “Funny thing about that . . . if anything happened to that unwieldy, cumbersome piece of shit armor I’d be devastated. It’s important to me and I admit to getting a little possessive about it. Probably be willing to fight for it too, even though to most people it’s just an unimportant piece of armor.”_

_She leaned back in her chair. “Only we aren’t talking about armor anymore.”_

_Akhaar smiled. “We’re not? Well, shit. Now what?” He continued. “I promise you, Cullen will follow you anywhere. He may be in Haven, but I’d bet every last coin he looked for you and looks out over the – what the fuck is in Haven anyway? Doesn’t matter, he’s not going anywhere without you, so don’t try to hide from him, got it? When this little party is done, we’ll go to Haven and find him.”_

_“Thanks Akhaar. See you later, Aki.” She laughed and donned the hood again._

_“Keep your head down, kiddo. The real party starts tomorrow, all these people in one place, there’s sure to be something wrong. You don’t hire a bunch of mercenaries to guard a church meeting, just saying…”_

_She turned back to him. “Be careful.” She peered out into the hall and returned to her room._

“He died in the explosion. They all did.”  Akhaar was a friend and decent soul. Her memories told the rest of the story. The Anchor, the explosion and the Fade everything endured at the plans of this Corypheus. Yennelyn’s resolve vacillated. She didn’t know if she could lead them all. “Cullen waits for us somewhere up ahead.”

Yennelyn felt eyes on her every step she took, eyes of suspicion and mistrust. She knew she deserved the scrutiny.

“No you don’t.” Cole whispered as he matched her steps. “You’ve done well, but this is not over yet. Please don’t give in.”

“Give in, Cole? I don’t understand.” Yennelyn’s confusion passed behind her as the party was attacked. _Cullen_.  Her thoughts moved to him whenever danger presented. _I need to stop and face this myself._

____________________________

Cullen knew it was the magic between them drawing him towards the Fade barrier. He heard Yennelyn’s call to him as he approached and muffled sounds of battle alerted him to the events on the other side.

Cullen tried to break through despite the knowledge it was not possible without dispelling the magic used to hold it in place. He’d spent hours inside the barrier in the Circle tower and knew he would need to wait.

After the first hour of attack after attack the onslaught of Fearlings stopped. He realized that fears and concern no longer occupied his thoughts and his anger and aggravation escalated as he paced in front of the barrier. Cullen wondered what he would say if Yen, _his Yen_ emerged when it fell until he realized one final barrier prevented their escape from the Fade. 

_________________________________

Hawke fell back to Yennelyn’s side as the barrier dissipated.  “You ready for this, Inquisitor? You know he knows about Rylen, right?”

Yennelyn’s initial anger at Hawke’s insensitive remarks vanished as she realized the weight of her past decisions.  Her shoulders rolled inward as she hung her head. “My memory, I didn’t know.”

Cassandra called to the back of the group. “Perhaps we should focus on returning first before examining poor life choices.”

Hawke snorted. “Nice impartiality Lady Cassandra, you aren’t helping.”  

Cole pushed ahead and the others could see his wild gestures as he talked. Hawke and Yennelyn hurried to join the others.

Cullen did not smile or give any indication of any awareness of Yennelyn’s changes. “We have a problem. This Nightmare has a guardian on the exit -  a very large spider. As soon as we cross towards the Rift opening, it will attack. If you see the path to the opening is clear, do not wait – take it.” Cullen looked around and saw acknowledgement from everyone, except Yennelyn.  “Lady Trevelyan, you are the priority, if you have a free path to the Rift, you will go.”

Cullen checked his equipment, and the others followed as Yennelyn pushed and shifted her way to where he stood. He continued to tighten his harness and pauldrons with his eyes locked on hers. His cold stare told her he was not pleased.

“Cullen . . .” Yennelyn tried to speak but found no words to express any sentiment.

His eyes softened their hard gaze and an almost imperceptible sigh escaped him. “Later.”  He turned from her and followed the spirit through the under cropping of rock.

The Spirit of Faith said nothing until they were almost through. “You are the last. Do not go through with your plan for you condemn many more even in such a selfless act.”  Cullen planned to charge the demon and distract it long enough for the others to escape. “The Nightmare will not stop; his aspect here will not allow you to leave. You must defeat him here and then return.”

Cullen and the Spirit of Faith emerged to the presence of the large spider demon and the Aspect of the Nightmare.  Cullen steeled himself knowing he would not live to return from this sacrifice, but it would save Yen and the others, an acceptable loss.

Faith’s light blazed brighter forcing the party to shield their eyes. “I cannot allow this Witcher, if a sacrifice is called upon in this moment, let it be mine. Tell Leliana I failed her too.” The power of Faith’s light radiated outward, pushing the Aspect and the guardian away from the party. “Now, Witcher!”

An expulsion of light towards their foes caught the party off guard and although Cullen charged the Aspect alone the others stumbled after him.

“Now that was cold, even for you.” Hawke said as she fought the Fearlings alongside Cullen.  “You couldn’t even show her a little affection? Andraste’s ass, you two were always downright disgusting, and all you did was glare at her.” Hawke let a blast of fire fly towards the two Fearlings on her right. “It’s not right.”

Cullen moved away from Hawke and channeled his reactions to Hawke’s admonishment into his attacks on the Aspect. The demon tried to hover away and was blocked by Cullen’s blade as it hacked him on the right. The demon tried to change direction to his left and Cullen’s blade found him again. Cullen knew if he could defeat the Aspect then Yennelyn and the others could escape the Fade. He continued to fight off the Fearlings as realization struck him _. This is a Fear Demon, not the Nightmare. That thing – the spider - the Spirit of Faith distracted_ is _the Nightmare._

Cullen continued his assault on the ever increasing waves of Fearlings as the party fought the Aspect. A quick glace behind him revealed Hawke and Stroud were immobilized by Fear magic and he worked his way back to where they stood to see if he could release them. “She will be pissed when she’s freed from that hold.” Cullen had no means to dispel the magic.

The only way out was to overpower the demon. Cole and Cassandra landed hit after hit weakening the Fear Demon and Yennelyn landed several swipes with her daggers. He’d treated the left for beasts and the right for spirits and though neither would impact the demon more than an untreated weapon, she was more proficient. 

The Fear Demon lost his hold on Stroud and Hawke and both rushed back into the fight. Cullen stowed his blade and grab hold of Yennelyn. She yelped as he pulled her towards him.

“There’s your chance, go!”  He pulled Yennelyn towards the Rift and was shocked when she yanked her arm from his grasp.

“I’m not leaving them here alone; we finish this and then all return.”  Yennelyn turned and sprinted back into the fray using both daggers across the back of the Fear Demon. 

For the first time in many years Cullen stayed back and watched Yennelyn as she fought. He realized that his hope to have _his Yen_ back would never happen.  _She’s changed, and this is a good change for her_. Dorian would remove the binding to free her of Cullen’s foolish wishes and make her own decisions as to the path to follow.

“We must go now!” Cullen heard Cassandra yell and watched as the party ran towards the Rift but not even Faith could keep the strength of the Nightmare from returning. Cullen shook his head and stopped as the others watched in horror as the Nighmare moved to prevent their escape. .

“There’s no more time, quickly, all of you!” Solas beckoned to Yennelyn.

Cullen stared at the three figures running before him. “One of us needs to distract him.” He yelled.

Hawke and Stroud moved towards the opening with Yennelyn close behind them. Hawke stopped short at Cullen’s statement. “Don’t mess with me Cullen; get your ass through that hole. No one is staying behind, remember?” Cullen did not reply. “No, this is ridiculous Cullen. I’ll stay, all right? Just take her and go, the Inquisition needs her and you.”

Stroud disagreed. “No. I will stay. This _mess_ is because of the Wardens. A Warden should make things right.” Stroud and Hawke continued to argue. 

“Cullen?” Yennelyn’s voice, timid and knowing turned his head. “Don’t do this, please.”

His movement so effortless and quick she gasped as the warmth of his hands enveloped her face. “Yen, you’re here.” He sighed and despite the rising argument to his left he could hear every breath from her – the trembling inhale and the slight quiver as the depth of what he was about to do threatened to tear her heart from her chest.

“Please. I’m not _her -  this Inquisitor_ , you of all people Cullen, you know I can’t lead.” Yennelyn’s lower lip joined her lament.

He tilted her head down a slight touch and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Princess, this is what you were meant to do. These are good people and will look after you. Corypheus is your target, the ultimate Magister who abuses his power. Bring him down.” Cullen smiled and stepped back. “Go.”

 “No! You are a subject of the Imperium Cullen Rutherford, and you will listen.” Tears fell of their own accord and the weight of what unfolded in front of them stopped Hawke and Stroud’s verbal melee.

Hawke leaned on her staff. “Son of a – the bastard is staying. Stroud, get Yennelyn and make for the way out, this will get ugly.”

Hawke finished giving her instructions and joined Cullen.  “Are you sure?”

He turned in slightly and nodded. He dropped his voice to a whisper.  “No, I’m not sure. There’s no other way. Count to ten when you’re out and after that close it up. Find Dorian, he will help Yen.”

The Nightmare would reach them in just a few minutes.  Yennelyn punched his chest once and then again. A tender touch held her hands and held them at her sides. “You’ll only hurt yourself.” She clasped his hand and moved it to her face rubbing her cheek in his palm and kissed it once. In spite of the growing danger, Cullen leaned in and lightly brushed his lips against hers. “Goodbye, Princess - I’m sorry.”  He tilted away from her and then leaned in again at her left ear. “I love you.”  The shock on her face at his choice of words compounded as he pushed her away from him into Stroud and Hawke’s care bolting towards the giant demon encroaching on their getaway.

Yennelyn screamed as Stroud dragged her towards the Rift opening. Fear turned to panic as she watched him drink vial after vial of his potions she counted at least five. “No! Stop him, it’s too many!” She continued to call after him even as Stroud pulled her through.

When the three emerged from Fade the battle in the courtyard still continued only now the Anchor’s power seemed to increase as Yennelyn’s simple gestures dispelled the remaining demons.  “Hawke, what do I do?”

Varric called out. “What are you waiting for – close it!”

Hawke put her hands out and shook them violently. “We can’t! Cullen is still –“ Hawke’s explanation was cut off as the Rift expelled storms of light and air into the small courtyard. “Just a little longer.”

Solas felt the Fade energies flowing from the Rift. “You must close it or more will come through.”

Hawke’s silent countdown continued out loud. “Seven. . . eight . . .nine. . . ten.” Her head dropped to her chest, and she sighed. “Close it. He said to count to ten.”

Yennelyn lifted her hand and dropped it. “Not yet, he needs more time.”

_Cullen drank his last vial of White Honey clearing the toxic levels from his blood._

Stroud pulled at Yennelyn’s arm. “Have you lost your mind? Close it! What if the Nightmare tries to come through?”

_The Nightmare was weakening but Cullen was as well._

She lifted her arm once and then hesitated looking for anyone to help her decide.

_The Nightmare moved away from the Rift._

“Maferath’s balls! Close the damned thing already. This is Kirkwall all over again!” Varric yelled. “She’s lost it!”

_Cullen stumbled towards the Rift and stowed his blade._

“Varric! Enough! You do not understand what you are talking about. That’s Cullen still in there, damn you!”

Hawke joined her. “I know what he means to you. I don’t want to give up on him but this is bigger than the both of us, Inquisitor. I know what happened in Kirkwall wasn’t you, it was Meredith. _You_ tried to stop her. Please, Yennelyn. Close it.”  

Her arm shook as she raised it and pointed the Anchor towards the Rift. 

_Cullen took five steps back and prayed as he ran._

_Do not grieve for me Maker of All._  
_Though others may forget You._  
_Your name is etched into my every step._

The Rift was closing, he needed to move. 

_I will not forsake You, even if I forget myself._

He jumped head first through the shrinking Rift and rolled out onto the hard stones of the courtyard on his back.

Yennelyn waivered at the sight of him lying on the ground, but Stroud urged her to continue. “Finish this Inquisitor! Seal it!” She did not know if she could make the Rift close faster, but the sooner it sealed she could tend to Cullen.

Varric call out to the others. “He’s breathing! Get Dorian . . .now!”

Yennelyn watched as Bull ran towards the entrance. The Rift sealed and a collective sigh passed through the courtyard as Yennelyn hurried and pushed aside any who stood in her way.  “Cullen.”

Varric helped Cullen sit up.  “I’m a little winded from the fall.” Cullen gestured towards the gathering of Wardens. “Time to be the Inquisitor.”

She smiled and joined Stroud to discuss the fate of the Wardens.

Varric and Solas helped Cullen to stand and then guided him to a stone ledge to sit. “You’re a shitty liar, Curly. Even I can see you’re torn up. Can’t you help him, Chuckles?”  

Solas shook his head. “Dorian is better suited to assist. Is it safe to assume that you will heal on your own within a few hours without help?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes. Dorian will only fuss and fidget. “

Dorian and Bull weaved through the gathering crowd as the discussion continued. Yennelyn’s relief sighed through her as she watched Dorian approach Cullen. She would have to get used to his presence.

Dorian whispered in Cullen’s ear as he looked over the injuries. “I do not fuss or fidget.”  Dorian continued. “Well you almost broke yourself in two, it seems.  I have an extra white honey if you need it, my guess is you used up every last potion you carried.” Dorian handed the vial to Cullen. He drank what was offered and nodded.

Cullen tried to stand but fell to his knee. “I will need to stay here at least a few hours and Dorian can attest it’s better to keep the courtyard clear. I’m not the most pleasant person through the pain.”

Solas did not understand. “Pain? When you heal there is considerable pain?“

Dorian scoffed. “If you tried to heal those injuries in a few hours, the body knits itself as best it can, but Cullen’s previous injuries prevent smooth healing especially on the neck, back and shoulders. Yes, it hurts or so he claims.”

Cullen tuned out the discussion and homed in on Yennelyn’s voice. She allowed the Wardens to remain in Orlais. _Strategic move, Alistair will be pleased. She must treat them gently given the beating their ranks have endured.  Well done, Yen._   He watched her search through the crowd. _Later, I need to rest._ The Inquisition worked on clearing out the courtyard to give the Witcher the time he needed to heal. Only a few of the inner circle would remain.

Cullen winced as Hawke clasped his shoulder. “You’re crazier than I thought. Don’t do that again.”

She wheeled on Varric but kept her voice down. “You have some serious apologizing to do to Yennelyn, talking out your ass like that. You were knocked out if I remember correctly, so how would you know what happened?” Varric stepped backwards at Hawke’s scolding and tried to back away more. She grabbed his collar. “You and me will have a nice long talk, my friend.”

She winked at Cullen and as she walked away she bumped Varric with her hip. Cullen watched as both of them tipped their wrists back and forth towards their faces _.  Kirkwall for drinks . . . now._

The Wardens vacated the courtyard area leaving the Inquisition the courtyard. Yennelyn and Cullen sat together on the stone ledge almost completely alone. Dorian and Bull setup several tents in the courtyard even though Dorian knew Cullen would not rest. Dorian had helped Cullen through difficult healing as had Yennelyn in the past  - both knew what to expect. Solas was the only other party member to remain within the confines of the courtyard.

Neither spoke for some time, but Cullen was acutely aware of the intermittent flares in Yennelyn’s left hand. She would shake it off or sit on her hand as if it could act as a stopper in a bottle and quiet the effect.

“When did that start, Yen?” Cullen asked nodded his head towards her hand. “Have you told anyone?” Cullen looked around for Solas, he seemed to be the most knowledgeable about the Anchor; yet he was in sight.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. I think the flares started just before we found you.” She replied.

Cullen wanted to look and see if the original infestation was still moving deeper into her, but waited. “Are the flares slowing down or pushing through more often? Yen, I need to know if you feel pain with the flares.”

“Can you forgive me?” Yennelyn asked.

He knew she spoke of Rylen but now was not the time to talk. “Yen, please don’t avoid the question.”

She inclined her head towards the ground and her dark hair fell forward and obscured her face. “Yes. The flares are increasing as is the pain. Look for me, please and tell me what you see.”

Cullen’s weakened state did not impact his senses. He closed his eyes and inhaled settling his personal concerns and looked at her through his Witcher’s eyes and found he could not breathe.  Inside her a battle raged; the magic of the Anchor - green and gold storms swirling in intricate patterns ever encroaching on her person locked in a struggle with her essence: a sea of violet and red and swarms of black churning enraged by the barrier of the Anchor’s magic. He stared and clasped her right hand in his, a futile attempt to soothe himself from the conflict that raged within her.

“W-what is it Cullen? You’re scaring me.” She stood and even the movement of her physical being did not disrupt the chaos within. The Anchor erupted in flares of light and she bent from the pain. He followed the struggle as the chaos continued to push the Anchor’s magic aside for control of her.

Yennelyn shriek of pain brought Dorian, Bull and Solas. Solas’ eyes reacted to the growing intensity of the Anchor and he looked to Cullen. The slight shake of his head told the elf their fears were about to manifest in Yennelyn. Her magic fought to return. Solas quietly pulled Bull and Dorian aside.

She yelped again and Cullen’s gaze returned to see the chaos storm winning against the Anchor. He could feel the pressure building within her and knew the courtyard must be emptied before the pressure reached its peak. Yennelyn would be safe, the mana blast would explode up and out from her and she would not be harmed; anyone else caught in the blast could suffer critical injuries. He would need to keep his shield active as long as he could to withstand what was to come.

Cullen survived another blast with Alistair atop Fort Drakon all those years ago and it was his Quen sign that saved him. Cullen pulled his gaze from Yen and met Solas’ eyes. The elf nodded and Cullen watched as the three moved away and a barrier of magic erected at the courtyard entrance.

He walked towards her and smiled. “So we’re finally alone. Next time just ask me, no need for the theatrics, Yen. I’m a sure thing when it comes to you.”

She laughed through her tears. “We have an audience, so keep it clean.”

He laughed, but the sound was so hollow, he knew she saw through his act. “I’ll make it up to you, Yen.”

Yennelyn choked through a sob. “Liar. Cole told me ‘don’t go’.“  She coughed. “This is what he meant, isn’t it? Your precious Maker sees fit to let me remember you only to separate us again. Will you come find me in the Fade?”

Cullen’s arms held her to him. “Yen, you’ll be fine. When it happens, there will be a flash and the burst of mana will move out from you. That’s why the others are behind the barrier.”

He knew they were out of time.

_________________________________

Far to the east of Adamant,  Leliana walked the ramparts of Skyhold deep in thought until a verse crossed her mind:

_O Maker, hear my cry:_

_Seat me by Your side in death._

_Make me one within Your glory._

_And let the world once more see Your favor._

  
She was surprised to think of Transfigurations it was not one she preferred for contemplation. Leliana stopped and said a silent prayer for those at Adamant and hoped the news would be favorable.

_________________________________

Yennelyn battled against fatigue. Cullen held her upright but with each new hour she slipped and faltered and as he held her he shared stories of his missions in the Inquisition he’d kept from her during her memory loss. He promised to stay with her until the danger passed and in her exhaustion she did not ask what would happen to him. It was not until the surge of magic grew within her she understood what he would experience.

“Let me go, Cullen. You need to go behind the barrier with the others.” She struggled against imaginary bonds. She leaned against him and only the slightest support around her waist kept her upright.

The mana surge grew to a swell and Cullen prepared to throw his Quen sign.  As it had atop Fort Drakon a beam of white light shot upwards towards the heavens. Cullen drew the sign and waited.

Dorian held his breath as the scene unfolded before them. “He’s too weak for this right now, but he’s unwilling to let her face this alone.” He exhaled and felt Bull’s hand on his shoulder.

A white beam of light shot into the sky and the three of them watched as it punched through the dark. “The release . . . it’s almost over.”

Cullen’s Quen sign shielded him as a wave of white light exploded from Yennelyn in a circular wave, but it was Dorian who noticed the shield dissipate prior to impact. The force of the blast threw him away from her as his body moved through air thicker than mud. His hair floated around his face, eyes forced closed by the blast an limbs thrown around as doll tossed aside.

Dorian heard Bull shout as Cullen’s frame slammed against the stone ledge a heap of limbs gave way to a crumpled body.  Dorian gasped and waited for Cullen to move. “Take it down, get that barrier down.” Dorian raced passed Yennelyn where she knelt. Bull helped her to her feet and guided her to Cullen’s side. Dorian slipped his hand around Cullen’s neck and looked up at Yennelyn. “It’s . . . it’s not broken.”

She sighed and held onto Bull’s arm for support.

“Cullen. Open your eyes please. Yennelyn is safe; you need to open your eyes.”  Dorian said. Bull watched as Dorian continued to fuss over what, to Bull’s trained eye, was just a body.

Bull guided her to the ledge for support and knelt next to Dorian to whisper to him.  “Dorian.” Bull gently took Dorian’s hands and held them.  “Hey, look at me. He’s gone. Dorian, he’s not breathing. I’m sorry.”

Dorian pulled away. “Two minutes and thirty seconds, when he needs to recover it’s _two minutes and thirty seconds_. Do not tell me something is done when you haven’t the faintest clue.” Dorian loosened Cullen’s armor. “Nap time is over, my friend, the Lady waits. Open your eyes.”

Bull inhaled and sat back on his legs to think. _Two minutes and thirty seconds . . . it’s been ten._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome, if you want to comment or have questions find me on tumblr: eravalefantasy.tumblr.com


	14. Slivered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Adamant.

 

Bull inhaled and sat back on his legs to think. _Two minutes and thirty seconds . . . it’s been ten_. “Dorian, you have to let it him go. Ten minutes passed. Cullen wasn’t indestructible, he was human.”

Dorian pushed Bull away from him. “You don’t understand. He’s not human, in some manner perhaps, but that’s not important.” Bull’s attention was pulled towards Cullen’s body and he stared as a hint of an inhale held his eyes. Dorian continued. “There were changes - we couldn’t find certain creatures, so others were. . . why I am telling you all this - when you can’t be bothered to pay attention is a mystery!”

Bull pointed to Cullen’s torso. “Dorian, I saw it - he inhaled. No shit. It’s not possible, Dorian what the fuck? He fucking inhaled after ten minutes.”

Dorian removed the rest of Cullen’s armor and as the mail slipped off Cullen’s chest rose in a discernable inhale. “His ribs are broken. He was breathing all along just too shallow for us to see - the armor was too constrictive. We can move him in the morning Inquisitor, do we remain here or risk the return? It is likely he will be healed by the time we reach Skyhold but the return will not be smooth and he will require care.”

Yennelyn was lost. She’d almost killed him _. Cullen, what do I do? Please look at me, tell me who to trust?_ Yennelyn was aware he would not respond but her concerns of the past and of one of her companions ignited her fears anew. _She’s here. Void take me, what do I do? Please, Cullen open your eyes and help me._ The revelations of her memories and the return of her magic were difficult at best to comprehend; it was the loss of Cullen atop all her concerns that was all-consuming and pulled her mind away from the present.

_Yennelyn loved Seleny in Antiva and visited the city often as a child. The young dreamer inside of her saw so many wonders in the city of water and life. She knew the buildings and bridges slowly grew around the living river and often imaged as a child there was something magical about it; she told herself stories about the river -  when the waters grew lonely, stones and wood gathered to please the river and shaped themselves into the intricate bridges and buildings throughout the city.  Yennelyn dreamed of elaborate structures rising from the water for her pleasure._

_Years later, no longer the young girl taken to daydreams and flights of her imagination, Yennelyn waited for Cullen on one of the many bridges in Seleny. The city appeared to float atop the water and she watched the mirror image from the sunrise cast a golden shimmer on the surface as it moved unhurried under the bridge and toward its destination._

_Her mouth curled up as she sensed his eyes on her from somewhere nearby. The magic between them was more than she expected. His thoughts, those fueled by strong emotions were easier for her to read and at this moment she knew Cullen’s thoughts. Her heart quickened as she felt her name in the silence of the morning air._

Yen _._

_The long, deep sigh of delight left her before she could quiet herself and was met with the familiar rich laugh meant solely for her. Qarinus left behind, she dismissed any notions of anything less than his devotion. Boots scuffed along misted stones. She dipped her chin to hide the smile desperate to push through and tried to hold her breath to steady her racing heart._

_Strong hands rested inches from hers on the railing of the bridge. She gulped another breath to gain control of her desire to touch, to feel._

_“You should breathe, Yen.” His low laughter made her stomach flutter._

_She shook her head as words required air and exhaled as he moved behind her sturdy arms wrapping her in warmth; she relaxed into him and shivered. Yennelyn wondered if he, too, felt as she._

_Again, he did not speak, but the thought reached her as though he had._

Every day.

_He left a faint kiss behind her ear._

_“Cullen. . .I- “_

_His breath on her ear stayed her speech. “We need to keep moving, Yen. As much as I want to stay here, we have to go.”_

_The safety and serenity of his arms dispersed as he moved away. A light touch on her elbow reminded Yennelyn he was waiting for her._

Dorian’s impatience grew, he knew Yennelyn was struggling in her thoughts, but she had to decide. “Inquisitor, please. Now is not the time for flights of fancy. Cullen needs _you_ , the Inquisitor, here and now. What is your decision?” Yennelyn’s blank stare set his jaw to clench and Dorian grabbed her wrist to bring her attention to the present. “Please, I cannot imagine what is happening to you but I can tell you we need to be on our way or set camp. What will it be?”

She was so unsure now, how many more would the Inquisition lose? Good people, the _right_ people had been lost. Akhaar could have led the Inquisition even Cullen could lead better than she.

A sharp shake to her wrist made her jump. “Yennelyn!” Dorian’s voice cut through her.  He released her wrist and stood. “Forgive me. Perhaps Bull should help you to a tent to rest. We’ll discuss this tomorrow when you are better rested.” Dorian nodded to Bull.

She stood but did not look away from Cullen. Her voice squeaked slightly as she tried to speak. “No.” Yennelyn closed her eyes and inhaled. She rolled her shoulders, she’d picked the move up from Cullen, he did so when he was ready to make a decision. “No. Bull, tell the others we return to Skyhold at first light.”

Yennelyn and Dorian did not rest with the others; they worked through the night to prepare the cart Dorian traveled west in to accommodate Cullen. Dorian hoped Cullen would require a few days to heal and wake, but he could not give Yennelyn any reassurance – he did not know what would happen.

When the main force of the Inquisition left the Approach, Yennelyn left Vivienne, Blackwall and Solas behind. Adamant behind them Dorian stared and smiled at Yennelyn.  “What is it exactly between you and Vivienne, I wonder. Cullen warned me and Varric to keep the two of you apart. Since it is clear that for the moment you are allowing me to share this space with you without bloodshed, I must assume you accept my presence around you.”

Yennelyn sat cradling Cullen’s head in her lap, combing her fingers through his hair. “Dorian, truce for now -  I admit this is all strange for me, but you have been my ally in the Inquisition since you arrived and if that is Cullen’s influence who I am to turn you away? As for Madame de Fer, I will only say that for her sake she best proves useful or I shall return a favor – and a curse she will _never_ forget.”

Cullen took a deep but rasping breath and panic gripped Yennelyn’s face.

“Breathe, Inquisitor he is well. Talk with him if you will he will continue to sleep.” Dorian assured her. “Unless of course you would prefer that I find a way to annoy you and return to our past preferences of verbal sparring and threats.”

Yennelyn shook her head and traced her fingers down Cullen’s cheek. “Cullen, it’s time to wake up. Cullen, this sleeping in nonsense simply will not do. Time to wake, Cullen.”

______________________________

 

“Cullen! You’re late!” Cullen heard the boots on his ladder and Cassandra calling to him.

He pushed himself to rise, confused by the throb at his temples and the sharp stabs to his ribcage he called out in a weak voice. “Lady Cassandra, I need . . . time.” _I must have fallen or something, but I can’t remember_. 

“Commander Cullen, you were brought here to lead the Inquisition army not take to drunken fights. You are expected in the War Room immediately.” Cassandra waited for a reply.

 _Commander?_ “I . . . forgive me. I am out of sorts this morning and will be there.” Cullen stood his ribs and chest tender from some unknown event. He pulled on his tunic and trousers and reached for the mantle. It was soft enough to provide added protection and prevented the plate armor from touching him directly. _When did I get this? It’s ridiculous._ He thought looking in the mirror. _Looks like a fucking mane. Dorian’s idea no doubt. This was not the armor I had before. Where is the chain from Tevinter?_ Cullen reached for his breast plate. He slipped it on amid slight pain and mild soreness. A leather vest hung on a chair; maroon with gold stripes embroidered on the outside, a tanned leather liner inside and a fine chainmail covered the shoulders.  His gloves were unfamiliar. They were not his usual full gauntlets, but black hide, strong and tight as he slipped on the fingerless glove that reached almost to his elbow. He looked again the in mirror before him and realized he had not shaved in quite a while but what finally caught his attention was his _short hair._ His preferred shoulder length hair cut short to the nape and the slightest hint of a curl at his upturned bangs. “Maker’s breath, when did I – “

Cassandra grew increasingly impatient waiting in the office. “Cullen!”

“A moment, Seeker!” Cullen growled. He heard a gasp of fright and sighed. “I apologize Lady Cassandra; I’m on my way down.” Cullen took one last look in the mirror, yellow eyes stared back. _I am still a Witcher, but none of this makes sense._ Cullen descended the ladder mindful of the tenderness in his ribs.

Cassandra led Cullen from the tower office. “What happened to Commander Rylen?”

She stopped and turned on her heel to face Cullen. “Captain Rylen. Did you promote him? I would prefer to be notified of such decisions or has your reach extended to overrule me as well?”

Cullen was not prepared for her acidic retort. _What the fuck was going on?_ Cullen realized he needed to keep quiet. “Must have been a dream, I didn’t sleep well.”

The Seeker continued her march across the connection bridge. “Perhaps you will exercise better discretion in the future, when it comes to drunken sparring with a qunari. Bull took quite a beating but insists it was all in good fun, so I shall overlook your indiscretion – this time.”

“Why thank you, Seeker Pentaghast, I wasn’t aware that my actions were under your scrutiny, the next time I feel the need to do anything other than breathe I shall check with you first.” Cullen was surprised at his meanness; he liked Cassandra and thought they established a rapport.

A second time, Cassandra wheeled around and pointed her finger at him. “Listen carefully. You live only because the Empress and the King of Ferelden forbade me from ending your life. You are a Witcher, a monster to be exterminated - not revered. If the Most Holy had not named you as her choice to lead and protect the Inquisition’s forces you would no longer be a concern.” She turned around and continued her path. “You may have everyone else fooled, but I know your kind.”

Cassandra reached the door and Cullen moved to open it. Rather than allow her to enter first he moved in front of her and turned back. “I can find my way from here, Seeker. I’ve grown weary of the company, if you will excuse me.”  Cullen’s swift walk left her alone.

Cullen cut through Solas’ study out into the main hall where Varric met him. “Curly, you look horrible. Bull can barely move this morning, but he’s still laughing, you’ve definitely gained another ally if you ever need.” Varric watched the door behind Cullen. “You should get to the War Room before the Seeker tries to collect your head. She’s been screaming all morning about you; but you’ll be happy to hear the princess kept her head, so at least no bloodshed - today. When you’re done, meet me on the third floor of the Rest.”

Cullen nodded and continued towards the War Room. The door creaked as he pushed it open to the smirking faces of Leliana and Josephine. Morrigan sighed audibly leaning against the far wall and leaning against the table, Yennelyn’s stare dared him to speak. “Good morning, ladies. I apologize if I’ve kept you waiting long.”

Morrigan coughed no doubt to hide a laugh or prevent Yennelyn from directing her attention off of Cullen. Yennelyn nodded to Morrigan who set a barrier on the door. “An hour, perhaps a little longer.” Morrigan returned to her resting place.

“Cullen, I need you to take Varric and Dorian and accompany me to Caer Oswin. Cassandra will be with us. Your purpose is to watch her, there is something seriously wrong with the Seekers of Truth and if Lord Seeker Lucius was any sign of the corruption, you will be the first to see it in her.” Yennelyn looked to Leliana to continue the discussion.

Leliana pulled out a stack of parchment papers and folders. “We checked the records Cullen, when we cemented the alliance with the Templars, a Ser Barris warned of corruption spreading in the Seekers.”

Cullen’s head snapped up from the papers he read to look directly at Leliana. “The alliance with the Templars – when did this happen? We met with Fiona in Redcliffe when Alexius was captured.”

Yennelyn froze. She took tentative steps towards him. “Cullen? Are you well? We did not meet with the mages at _your_ request. Alexius died in a raid led by Dorian, you were with them. When you left the Order after Kirkwall, Dorian met us in Haven.” She looked back to Leliana and Cullen saw the slight shrug from the spymaster. “Perhaps we should wait for this mission, you seem out of sorts.”

 _My memories are different, is this another time schism? You need to play along until you discover what is happening around you. Listen, don’t speak first._ Cullen quickly recovered. “Must have been the aftermath of my evening, it seems the boys had a little too much fun and I’m still paying for it.” Cullen smiled and grabbed his ribs.

Josephine shook her head. “If all of you would pay half as much attention to our goals, we could have secured Orlais for his Majesty and taken control of the Imperial Army. Corypheus is no joke, and neither is the Imperium. As it stands, the Emperor is not pleased with our dealings with the Wardens and Ferelden.” Her tongue lashing complete Josephine buried her head in documents again.

 _The Emperor – but Gaspard was executed. Celene ruled. What the fuck is happening here?_ Cullen did not like the look Yennelyn gave him before she turned back to Leliana. He knew that look. She was worried and .  .  . _Yen?_ Cullen tried reaching out to her and felt nothing. _Yen, look at me_. Cullen shook his head. _The binding was removed; I didn’t expect it to feel so empty. So, that’s over then._ Cullen continued to reach out to her the way he had for so long with no response. He fought the urge to touch her to see if she still felt the same. Her scent was missing; the cloud of her essence left no trace. The War Room smelled of musty books, morning air and a mix of the other women. He smelled perfumed soaps and Morrigan’s strange new obsession of cinnamon and cloves, but Yennelyn’s scent was not among them.

 _Dorian will tell me if I’ve gone mad._ “I should prepare Varric and Dorian, the rest we can discuss on the way, Inquisitor. If you will excuse me – Morrigan, if you please?”

Morrigan removed the barrier from the door and barely escaped as it crashed open with Cassandra in full fury before them. “What in the name of Maker is going on here? I’ve been trying to enter the room and calling to you – have you all lost your minds?”

Leliana walked casually around the war table towards the door. “Cassandra, we must not have heard you as Josie and the Inquisitor were discussing Cullen’s inappropriate behavior of late, rather loudly in fact and if you will follow me, I will share everything I know.” Leliana gestured for Cassandra to lead the way out. Cullen followed at a distance until he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to see Yennelyn smiling at him.

“So, is that how it is with a Witcher? Take a woman to bed and then don’t talk with her for days? I thought we were . . . I must have misunderstood.” She moved closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do woman often profess their love to you? Am I a silly mage to hope that a Templar and Witcher could feel the same way?”

Cullen’s head spun. _What in the Void happened? Yen is timid, reserved -  Cassandra a possible traitor and Alistair taking over Orlais? What happened?_  

“I did not mean to upset you. If we together are . . . then we should just forget anything happened.” Yennelyn’s wistful tone tore the last of his composure away.

Cullen offered his hand. She placed hers atop his and he guided her closer. She rubbed her face against his. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten me.” She laughed her concern away and kissed his cheek. “You’re the only thing that has made any sense since the Inquisition found me.”

He froze and then tried to recover before giving her cause for concern. “Walk with me, Dorian and Varric will wait.” She nodded, and they strolled towards the garden. “So I messed up again it seems. But tell me Inquisitor, do you often profess your love to one of your advisors?” Cullen would try charm to pull as much information from her as he could. “The first time we met what did you think of me? Be honest, I am curious.”

Yennelyn pushed him towards the gazebo. “Do we have time for a story?”

Cullen kissed her hand and led her to the bench. “Indulge me, when we leave Cassandra will no doubt scrutinize my every movement.”

She sighed and looked off into the flower garden.

_Yennelyn was unsure, unsteady, but she’d chosen to charge forward instead of the mountain path. She worried about the lost men, but moving forward made the most sense. She felt lost as if missing some part of who she once was along with her memories had lessened her._

_The charge forward with the elf, the dwarf and the Seeker was strange but at least her magic still worked even with the disturbing new ability to close the rifts.  Yennelyn and her party passed through the doors and saw a large rift off in the distance; soldiers fought against Shades in the large courtyard. She saw him, at first she thought him an old man his stark white hair pulled her attention. Until she watched him, this was no elder, his shield blocking each incoming blow and the ferocity of his parry and return. The Shade was knocked back with each blow. He rolled his shoulders forward and hacked mercilessly at the demon before him until it disappeared. He pointed towards the wraiths and shouted to the others to focus their attacks._

_Solas, the elf, shouted for her to close the Rift. She felt the man’s eyes on her as she stood and stretched out her hand. The Rift, as before closed under her touch. The man stared as joined Cassandra._

_“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the Rift, well done!” His voice gruff, Yennelyn’s attention was pulled to him as he joined them._

_Cassandra turned towards Yennelyn. “Do not congratulate me, Commander, this is the prisoner’s doing.”_

_He looked into her face and his eyes softened for a moment. “Is it? I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”_

_She was struck by his eyes, a golden yellow flecked with amber and deep brown. She did not respond and stared at him._

_Varric coughed._

_Yennelyn found her voice. “I guess I’ll just have to try my best.” She felt her cheeks bloom as she stared at him._

_She heard Varric’s voice beside her. “Here we go again.” She turned and watched him walk away shaking his head._

Cullen smiled as the rush of color to her cheeks told him the rest. _Are my memories false, a fantasy? Dorian can help._ “Then it’s my voice you love, Inquisitor, is that what you are trying to tell me?”

Someone cleared their throat nearby, male. Cullen looked around to see Dorian grinning with Varric in tow. “As adorable as the two of you are, we should be on our way before the Seeker locks us all up.”

Varric muttered. “Don’t you mean nauseating? This is getting old.”

Yennelyn stepped out of the gazebo. “What did you say Varric? I didn’t hear you.”

Dorian pulled Varric back. “Nothing Inquisitor, we should get moving.”

Cullen and Dorian rode next to one another on the journey. “Dorian, I’m going to ask you a question and I would appreciate discretion.”

A wide grin spread across Dorian’s face. “Don’t bother, everyone knows, Cullen. The crash in your office, breaking bottles, locked doors all of it more than obvious, my friend. I’m surprised you waited this long.”

Cullen’s head dropped. “Thank you for the report, but that was not my question. My head has been fuzzy since the sparring with Bull.”

Dorian yelped, pointed and then quieted his voice. “I knew it, I told you it was ridiculous, but you wouldn’t back down, you couldn’t - one of these days that pride will bite you in the ass but good.”

“No Dorian that is not the problem.” Cullen sighed. “As strange as this sounds, when did we meet?”

“Oh, it was a lovely summer’s day. Me, a handsome mage at eighteen and you a fucking captive on a table tied down while we fed you potion after potion. What is wrong with you? What did you think I picked you up in a brothel because I heard Templars were a good time to be had?” Dorian rolled his eyes. “Bull must have hit you harder than I thought. When did we meet, really Cullen?”

Cullen tried to remember. “When you helped me escape, you sent me to Antiva.”

The mage’s eyes grew wide, and he slowed his horse more. “Cullen, I took you back to Ferelden to the Templars. Do you remember the Blight? Alistair? _Solona_?   I’m actually surprised you and his Majesty are still on speaking terms the way the two of you were always posturing.” Dorian broke away and sped up to Yennelyn. After a short discussion she called for the party to stop and make camp. She was concerned about Cullen’s head injury and wanted him rested if they encountered demons along the way.

Cullen hoped the cloud obscuring his memories would lift after a day or so and as his head hit the bedroll he hoped the haze would lift. The images of Adamant faded as he remained awake. He turned as the tent flap opened.

Yennelyn kneeled at the opening, her voice soft, “Cullen, I’m worried. Dorian says your memory is a little off. Would it be too much to stay?”

He chuckled softly and patted the bedroll. “Your company would be perfect, _my Lady_.”   

________________________________

Dorian watched Yennelyn smooth Cullen’s hair. “You loved him even before the binding, didn’t you?” She nodded.  “Was it Rivain that meeting in the crowd or when he hid you on the dock?”

Yennelyn’s shock at how much of her past Dorian knew left her speechless for a moment or two. “He shares so much with you. So here is my gift to you, something I never shared. Do you remember the meeting with Alexius and my – the Archon?”

“Yes, I remember although I did not attend if I recall.” Dorian said.

Yennelyn leaned in and looked around as though a secret of the ages was to be revealed. “I was there, and _that_ is where the story of the Lady and the Lion began.”

His eyes wide in surprise, he leaned in to whisper. “You cannot tease me this way, Inquisitor, Cullen swore the first time you met was in Rivain.”

Yennelyn looked down at Cullen’s peaceful face as he slept. “He did not lie. I am not even sure if Cullen remembers or even knew it was me, but for me. . .” Yennelyn looked up into Dorian’s eager face. “It was the beginning and my end.”

_Cullen was to meet the Archon in his private rooms and the preparations took days._

_Yennelyn lifted the book from her father’s study the previous week; he could never be bothered with reading anything himself, she knew the book would not be missed. The Witcher’s Compendium.  She’d heard parts of conversations thus far about the man Alexius selected or rather kidnapped. The young man was a Templar from Ferelden, fair as most believed Ferelden’s to be. He was the same age as she, but Yennelyn suspected that he too must possess an intelligent mind and would be a proper traveling companion. She needed an army to fight her father and change the Imperium and this young man could be a most important ally if she could convince him to turn against his makers and follow her._

_She’d hidden away in the private library and devoured the book until her eyes rebelled against overuse. Yennelyn realized they were puffy and swollen and her face and night shift were wet with tears. She could not bear the thought of what the Ferelden endured. She had to free him and perhaps in doing so he would free her from whatever fate her father planned._

_Three days before the visit, Yennelyn prepared to leave for Ostwick. She’d asked to join a Circle and at first her father refused; when she whispered in his ear a promise to be the perfect eyes and ears for the Imperium in the Free Marches -  he commended her on her dedication and allowed her to leave when prepared. The Archon instructed her to take whatever she needed from the treasury once she left packages to her would be scrutinized._

_This was all part of her master plan and even though she suspected Imperium spies everywhere, Yennelyn spent years building her own coffer. She gathered an impressive amount of coin and had squirreled away every gift she received over the years; jewelry, gems, rare books and art all of it packed in trunks and ready to follow her into the Marches. Her father did not understand the extent of her plans and her worth but she would be prepared.  She would take enough coin to ensure her father’s men would not be suspicious and would assume that the trunks contained her extensive wardrobe._

_She’d built the persona of the princess to hide behind it. She could wander into many conversations and be dismissed as too vapid or preoccupied to listen. Her father’s librarian thought nothing of Yennelyn’s wanderings through the private stacks, off limits to all but a select few. She learned of forbidden magic; how to duplicate the gifts of the Seers, the Dreamers and of blood magic, curses and healing. She could only practice on small rodents and even then she often cried until she perfected her resurrection magic. Yennelyn knew that any of her self-taught skills would mean her death if discovered._

_The day of the Witcher’s visit, Yennelyn dressed as a servant and hid with a cloak inside her father’s private study before sunrise. He made it clear to her the night before she was excused from  this audience. She read enough to learn  what to expect of the Witcher’s appearance and cold demeanor to prevent any surprise on her part. Magister Alexius and Cullen Rutherford neared  based on the announcements from the steward, and from her hidden space donned her cloak and hood. The ante room she occupied stood empty and curtained;  the bed which normally occupied the space removed in favor of a storage area. She could see the entire room without her Father realizing her presence._

_Her breath caught as the door opened, the Magister and the Witcher moved further inside the room; she smiled as the Ferelden did not hide his scorn. Her foot slipped and scuffed against the stone floor, Yennelyn held her breath lest her hiding spot be discovered. When she dared peek again, eyes stared into her hiding space. Scorn dissolved into what she could only believe was curiosity. The Witcher sauntered to her hidden place and leaned against the wall facing the windows._

_Yennelyn heard Alexius and the Magister toasting and talking loudly, she steadied herself and whispered. “Please. I mean you no harm.”    She waited, holding her breath to see if he would answer._

_His voice was lower than she expected, and something in the timbre sent a shiver up her spine. “You should breathe.” He coughed to cover her gulp of air. His quick laugh covered up by another cough. “You seem to know who I am. Who are you?”_

_She listened to be sure the noise from her father would cover her voice. “A friend.” Yennelyn put her hand to her chest, her heart raced._

_She heard the sound of glasses set on the table and Alexius clear his throat. “We’re leaving.” Alexius said in more of an order than a statement._

_The Witcher stood straight but turned his head towards her. “Thank you for the company, another time perhaps.”_

Dorian stared at Yennelyn. “And then? Do not tell me it ended with nothing more.”

Yennelyn laughed and covered her mouth. “I’m afraid so, but I left for the Marches completely taken by a five minute conversation.”

“Why do you laugh?” Dorian asked. He realized he knew nothing about the real Yennelyn and surprised himself that he wanted to know her more.

“I didn’t see it until now. ‘A friend’, Dorian, every time I asked Cullen who he was in Haven and Skyhold he always replied ‘a friend’.  He must have figured out it was me.” She looked down at Cullen again. “Dorian – his eyes are fluttering again.”

He reached out and patted her hand. “He’s dreaming, my dear. I believe it’s my turn to share a story? Did he ever tell you about Felix’s pet wyvern?” She shook her head. “How did it start?” Dorian leaned in again and began his tale.

______________________________________

 Cullen stood between Yennelyn and Cassandra. “Lower your blade, Cassandra. Lucius is wrong.”

Cassandra’s face twisted into a snarl. “Out of my way, Witcher, you may be protected but she –“

He did not engage, advance or meet her anger. “She is the Inquisitor. Lucius corrupted the Seekers, not Yennelyn or the Imperium.”

“Then she is as Lord Seeker Lucius claims -  a spy! She must pay for her betrayal!” Cassandra lifted her sword and advanced.

“Both of you get her out of here.” Cullen drew both blades and waited for Dorian to leave the keep with Yennelyn.

Varric stood frozen unsure what to do. “Cullen, this isn’t right and you know it. She’s no spy, but you can’t fight Cassandra.”

Cullen jerked his head back and to the left. “I don’t intend to fight back. Go now and get back to Skyhold. I’ll hold her off as long as I can.”

He knew she was a gifted fighter, relentless and not opposed to killing a Witcher. “Cassandra, I will not fight you.”

 She thrust her sword forward and then followed with her shield. Cullen dodged both attempts but took no aggressive action towards her.  “Your reason is clouded by your feelings, Witcher.”

Cullen had to hope she would tire eventually, he knew the stamina of the Seekers rivaled the Templars and although he could outlast her, he preferred to end this without injury to himself. She feinted to his left and moved right. Cullen blocked her again without taking a blow. “The Inquisitor is gone, Lady Cassandra, talk with me or we can return and talk with Leliana. Cullen felt a surge from her and drew a Quen sign. “Cassandra, step back, the shield will discharge if you are too close.”

She took a step back and lowered her shield. “Why would you tell me this?”

He did not relax his stance but dropped his shoulders and lowered his blades. “I am not your enemy.”

_____________________________________

Yennelyn felt Cullen’s muscles tense and then tighten. “Dorian, his muscles are constricting.” 

“There is nothing to worry about, Inquisitor. Cullen must not appreciate my choice of story. He seemed more at ease when you spoke. I believe it is the sound of your voice that soothes him.”  Dorian rested against a crate. “Tell me something, were you truly jealous?”

She looked down at Cullen and then back to Dorian. “No. I was more afraid he’d follow you on some foolish adventure and forget me.”

Dorian put his head in his hands and laughed. “Shall we each stand at one end of a room and see who he clings to first? Yennelyn, every step Cullen has taken since Kirkwall has been to find _you_. The binding. Did you know I fought him for days, I tried to talk him out of it? Did you know that?”

She looked down at Cullen. “It’s my fault he’s here, much of what he endured is because of me.” The cart slowed and stopped.

Dorian stood and offered his hand. “Stretch your legs, Inquisitor.” Dorian helped Yennelyn down. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Yennelyn rolled her eyes. “That’s not who I am anymore, Dorian, but yes, I believe I do.”

She squawked as Dorian hugged her. “I’m not for hugging, its awkward, but you and me are far overdue.” Dorian held her and continued his conversation. “Yennelyn, let me tell you what I know. You are the sun, moons and stars to him. Never forget that, no matter how stubborn he may be.” Yennelyn let go in his arms and cried.

Bull and Hawke watched the scene in front of them as Hawke peered over the cart. She did not like the tense facial expression forming on Cullen’s face. Hawke kept her volume low so as not to alarm Yennelyn and touched his shoulder to shake it. “Cullen? Cullen?”

______________________________________

“Cullen?” Yennelyn tried to pull him back.

Corypheus’ words seared through him. If what he said was true, no matter what Cullen did, she was lost. “Yen, please go.” Cullen’s voice drowned out by Morrigan’s shouting.

She exhaled and shook her head. “He’s right Cullen; eventually you would have to make a decision as you’ve always known. Protect her at all costs until the danger comes from her. ”

Cullen stared at Corypheus and sneered. “That’s not what the contract said, I tore it up -  I’m not bound by whomever set it in motion. Yen, go!”

Yennelyn touched his shoulder. “Cullen? Make your final wish.”

Between the two - Magister and Witcher, a dragon stood. The roar shook the foundation, stone columns crumbled and ground shook with each massive step from the dragon. The magic so thick the air crackled with power.

Morrigan screamed and yelled for Cullen to run. The dragon advanced on Corypheus - protector and guide, the hope for the Imperium and Thedas lost to her anger.  He would not abandon her. Cullen closed his eyes and prayed one final time.

_________________________________

Cullen’s awareness changed as he opened his eyes. He was no longer in the underground cave but outside in a cart. Yennelyn slept at the far end curled up and covered by a blanket. Dorian sat near her resting his head in his hands and all seemed quiet and serene around them. _Dreams_. _The images weren’t real._ He reached up to touch his face and found his beard full and hair long _. I was at Adamant and then I was thrown back into the stones._ Cullen wanted to reach out to her, call to her to see if she would hear him. The tightness in his ribs and pain as he attempted to move filled in missing information.  _I was healing; the things I saw were dreams and fears of those I trust. Cassandra would never betray the Inquisition. Alistair would never seek to conquer and  . . . that is not her fate. A story told by her father, desperate for ever increasing power. Yen. He stretched out his senses and saw her, not the chaos he saw in Adamant and it seemed the magic of the Anchor and her own settled - neither controlling but sharing her._

He tried to move again and let out a loud gasp waking Dorian. Yennelyn stirred and Cullen cursed for waking her as her eyes opened. She brightened the instant she saw him and felt the all too familiar pull of her need.

 _Cullen_.

Dorian climbed down away to find food and water for Cullen leaving them alone.  She smiled and his heart thumped in his chest. “Later, Yen.” Yennelyn bit her lower lip and sighed.

Cullen’s laugh cut short by the wince of pain. “Don’t start.  I can’t Yen, later.” Cullen leaned back and held his arm across his chest. She crawled across the cart and curled next to him careful not to touch his bandaged chest.  He fought the growing urge to pull her close. In that moment his heart sank. He did not believe the claims, his dreams -  any of it. But he knew the truth it revealed. She would sacrifice herself for him and Cullen could not allow her to do so. For Yennelyn to succeed, he would need to say goodbye.

 

 artwork of Witcher Cullen as 'The Commander' by  [qissus](http://qissus.tumblr.com/)

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me hear from you! Like what you read, leave a comment. Find me on tumblr: eravalefantasy.tumblr.com


	15. Shards

 

_I need a favor, Cullen. That’s how it always starts. After all this time, maybe I should learn to be wary of those four little words. Four harmless little words - the problem is four little words expand into a sizable mess.  The note found my hand the moment I crossed the gate into Skyhold._

_I need a favor._

_L_

“Cullen, I need a favor.” Leliana did not turn towards him as he mounted the steps towards her workspace. “You received my note, that’s good.”

Cullen resisted the urge to walk away. Leliana never asked for favors, she could handle things well enough without help. The jobs she’d tossed to Cullen in the past were often beyond the skills of her network or involved messy entanglements with mages. This was different. Her face was flushed and she would not meet his eyes. He could see the hint of sweat on her face.

“Something’s wrong. Talk to me.” Cullen said. He kept his voice low and head down looking in the same direction as she. To anyone watching, they were reviewing reports together. “Is it Solona or the baby? Alistair? Lil, talk to me.”

Leliana ignored the despised nickname Cullen had given her during the Blight. She whispered to Cullen. “It’s Zev. He’s stuck in Antiva and the Crows – if they find out where he is, Cullen.” She glanced at him and saw the glisten in her eyes.

Cullen pressed his lips together. Leliana told him Zevran was in Nevarra and was safe. “I thought you two were just friends. So, you lied about that too Lil; friends don’t keep these kinds of secrets. I could have gotten Zev out of Antiva thirty times over and now you want me to do what?”

She sighed. “It wasn’t important. You keep your own secrets and I have mine.” Leliana shuffled reports and maps on her desk out of nerves. Cullen placed his hand atop hers.

“Take a deep breath.” Leliana kept her focus on her desk. “Lil, Leliana look at me.” She raised her head and met his eyes. “Tell me what I need to know and how I can help.”

The release in her neck and shoulders from deep tension as she exhaled revealed the face of the Spymaster once again.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Cullen asked. He required as much information as possible before he left.

“We parted when I left Denerim after Alistair’s coronation. Zevran will always be a part of me, just as Sol and Alistair and even you, my friend. Zev is in danger and I cannot leave here. So I ask that you bring him to safety wherever he wishes to go. I will take the war mission from the Inquisitor and you will take care of this. Rylen would never agree to help an assassin and Josie would be concerned if our aid were to become public. I will pay your fees if it will persuade you to help.”

“My fee is you get to deal with Yen because she will be seriously pissed. I take it Alistair knows what I’ll be doing and I need to stop in Denerim?” Cullen asked

Cullen still had to decide when to leave the Inquisition.

“The Inquisitor is expected to return to the Approach and then on to the Wastes. She will not  return for some time.” Leliana handed a small packet of papers to Cullen. “This is all the information I have gathered and Zev’s letters. Alistair expects Zevran will wish to relocate to Denerim for a while and has extended his protection.”

Collen nodded. “See you.”

She smiled. “See you and thank you.”

“You owe me, Lil. Remember that.” Cullen winked.

“One more time Cullen, call me that horrible name one more time.” Leliana warned.

Cullen laughed as he descended the stairs, his steps deliberate and slow. “You used to have a sense of humor . . . Lil.”

His laughter continued as he picked up his pace down the staircase and through the library.

Dorian tossed books onto a chair as Cullen passed by him. “Where are your manners, Cullen? Not even passing wave? I’m hurt. We leave in the morning back to the desiccated and dismal Approach; will you be joining us?”

Cullen shook his head.

“Oh no. You are not leaving me with her after everything? There is only so much affection I can tolerate, Cullen.”

Cullen stacked Dorian’s books and removed them from the chair. “Please, go on. Tell me how difficult all of this is for you Dorian.” Cullen grinned and leaned back.

Dorian huffed. “Suddenly I am her new best friend and she’s affectionate. It’s unnerving, Cullen.” He shuddered. “She’s always touching my arm, my shoulder.”

“Poor Dorian, he gains a friend and complains.” Cullen laughed. “Might I remind you that your current whine is keeping me from that affection and touching; my arm, my shoulder, my-“

Dorian held up his hand. “Stop -  I just ate and the idea of you recounting any amorous affection is more than my constitution is prepared to handle.” He shook his head as the grin spread on Cullen’s face.  “Well? Go if you insist on simply sitting there with that ridiculous grin on your face.”

“If you insist Dorian, I’ll be on my way. If you wouldn’t mind -” Cullen started.

“Yes, make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” Dorian sighed through his words. “It’s getting old, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

Cullen placed his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Just watch out for her, Yen _can_ take care of herself. She plans to send Vivienne away when you arrive. I am aware of what the Iron Lady is capable of when she feels threatened. Watch Yen’s back. That’s all I’m asking and maybe a hint or two of how displeased I might be should anything untoward find Lady Trevelyan.”

Dorian laughed. “Cullen, I love it when you use a decent vocabulary it proves you aren’t nearly as uneducated as you pretend to be.”

“Sorry, Dorian. I’ll remember to grunt and grumble instead.” Cullen teased. “See you.”

Dorian waved Cullen down the stairs. He could guess Cullen’s destination.

Josephine was reviewing the many communications and requests pouring into the Inquisition on a daily basis and with Commander Rylen’s help, attempting to review everything with Yennelyn. Cullen waited at the foot of the stairs leading to Yen’s quarters for several minutes before impatience took control. He took the steps two at a time to announce his arrival as loud as possible.

Yennelyn’s voice pulled him up the stairs faster. “Lady Josephine and Commander Rylen, I require privacy to confer with the Witcher. Please excuse us, I will find you Josephine as soon as my business is concluded.”

“Inquisitor.” The pair left together and Cullen acknowledged both with a quick nod of his head. Rylen’s glare met  Cullen as the Templar passed him.

“You shouldn’t lurk like that Cullen, it’s rude.” Yennelyn admonished him, but he could see the joy on her face behind the words. She stared not speaking until she heard the doors of her quarters closed firm. Her sigh carried through onto her words as she spoke. “How I have missed you.”

“Yen-“  As much as the sight of her, his Yennelyn, called to him he could not stay.

She held out her hand to him. Cullen took it without hesitation but for a far different reason. The control in the following conversation must remain with him if he did not wish to stay. When Cullen lay in Yen’s arms, minutes turned to hours and hours bled from sunrise to sunrise.

Yennelyn laced her fingers through his and turned to lead him. Cullen did not follow. Surprised at his reluctance, she gave a slight tug on his hand, expecting him to grip tighter but it was a slow detachment of his fingers that spoke for him. “This is about Commander Rylen, isn’t it? Cullen, I lost my memory, I did not remember who you were – who I was. That must count for some understanding from you.”

Cullen tilted his head down and with the tiniest shake he smiled. “I’m not talking about Rylen. In time, I’ll get used the idea of someone else with you.” Tentative steps belied the fury of want and lust he fought to control. _My Yen_.   Cullen forced the images flooding his prescient thoughts away as quickly as they appeared. He wanted nothing less than all of her. His voice strained against the desire to tell her how he would please her and instead struggled to speak every word. “I have to go.”

She laughed, but without joy. “Cullen, the last thing I want to hear from your lips is ‘I have to go.’”

Cullen did not want to argue, but felt her aggravation rise. “Yennelyn, this is not new to you. I have a contract, I have to go.”

 She struggled too, not wanting to fight and hoping to salvage the pleasures she expected they would share.  “Cole was right. Everyone takes of you and leaves nothing in return.  Cullen, let me give you what you need.”

“Cole looked where he should not, no one should ever be forced to endure such agony.” He turned towards the stairs. These were memories he did not wish to peel away with her.

“I did not intend to remind you of what you suffered through, Cullen.”

“You could not understand.” Cullen did not raise his voice, but his words stung. “No one can.”

He descended the stairs.

She hurried to follow. “How do you dare? Even when you push me aside I have always remained with you.”

Cullen spoke without thinking. “Until Rylen.”

She frowned. “So you lied about Rylen earlier. Cullen had you not thrown me out of Kirkwall – “

His frustration at her constant machinations and manipulations mounted. “I don’t care about Rylen. Take him to bed, use him as you see fit.” He closed his eyes. “Do not make this about your perceived persecution. How many more times must we go through this; a witcher takes contracts and fulfills the contract. You’re intelligent Yen. One would think you’d understand it.”

“Don’t push me, Cullen. I am more than familiar with your profession, but you don’t walk the Path, you never have. You are not a lone hunter who seeks coin for his kills. You walk with compassion, Cullen.  You may be a witcher by trade, but you are Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”

The silence hung between them until the softness of his tone surprised her. “No, I’m not. Cullen Stanton Rutherford died in 9:29 Dragon and I killed him. I wear his face, his name and carry what was left of him when the witcher was born; Cullen died without choice to bring me into this world. I am the uninvited guest, the usurper and cause of woe for his family and those who loved him. Every step I take, every life I save is payment for his and why I will go when called and why I will _always_ put my life before any other – as payment for the one I took. I have to make amends, to atone for the loss of a good man. “

She could not see a way to help Cullen see his worth.  “You are a good man.”

He shook his head. “He loved the Maker, did you know? I have no doubt the Maker chose a path for him and it is my curse to know who he was and why I should be reviled.”   
  
_All Men are the Work of our Maker’s Hands,_  
_From the lowest slaves_  
 _To the highest Kings_  
 _Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His Children_  
 _Are hated and accursed by the Maker_. 

“Cullen, no. You are a good man; you remember your childhood, your sisters and your brother. We spoke often of them, remember? Alexius was to blame, not you- never you. You cannot atone for his actions and yours are above reproach.  _A good man is not judged by the company he keeps, he is known by his actions and deeds selflessly performed without reward_.”

Cullen tried to use that Tevinter adage to console Dorian years ago.

“You are no monster, Cullen. I loved you the moment we met knowing nothing of who you were. Would your Maker have allowed us to meet? Would he? Why can’t you see who you are?”

“If I were even a shard of the man you believe me to be.” Cullen said.

Yennelyn reached out to him. “You don’t have to-“

He sunk down and sat on the stairs, hand lifted to stop her. “Yes, I do. Do you remember when we first met?”

She nodded. “The docks.”

“Yen, please. Your father’s study was the first time we met - although I did not realize it was you until we spoke on the Rivain docks in passing.” Cullen continued. “I despised what I was - on display for the Archon to see his latest triumph. I was paraded through Minrathous; a pet on a leash. I’d resolved to kill Alexius on the return and face the consequences because I decided it was better to prevent the master and the creature from continuing on in life.”

He stared away from her, and could not see as the indignity of her earlier tirade as it gripped her heart.

Cullen continued. “Then I heard you, my mystery woman; you had to be the Archon’s daughter for no one else would dare.  Five minutes to determine a lifetime, yet that is what happened. In those precious moments I heard the one voice, the breath of the one I would willingly follow to my end and then I lost her. I had a new goal, to find her – you. I buried myself in every book, every lesson to one end.” 

Eyes blinded by tears, she reached his shoulder when he clutched her hand. “I have nothing left to give you, Yennelyn. You took it all from me in five minutes and a handful of words.”

He stood. Too much time spent on him when Zevran needed help. “I’ve stayed too long, but will return. I promise you if the time comes I must leave and will not return; there will be no doubt to my intentions.” He traced a light pattern on her hand with his thumb and raised her palm to his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

______________________________

Hercinia sat on the Amaranthine coast once a favored destination for any Marcher with extra coin. The frequent raider activity, borne from the pirates of Estwatch or the Waking Sea reduced this majestic and beautiful city to inhabitants who could afford the outlandish taxes and secure the best mercenary help to reside there.  Cullen preferred the sea air to that of Skyhold and although he still searched for Zevran, he wondered how long he could stay in Hercinia.

Zevran would not waste coin and the inns and taverns in the city cost far more than the rat gnawed bedframes were worth.  Cullen believed the markets, or the docks were best to find the elf and rather than search extensively allowed the city to work for him.

News of the Witcher’s arrival quickly scattered the less hearty to their ships or homes leaving only the very curious or most deadly on the docks.  Cullen realized he’d acquired a shadow much quicker than expected. The dagger in his belt was in reach despite the absence of malice in the air, the footfalls were inconsistent – a mix of quiet and of revealing slaps of leather against wet stones.

A thick male Antivan accent, the voice honeyed yet genuine broke through Cullen’s concern.  “It seems the years have been very good to you, my friend. I admit to following you for some time to watch you walk, you still have _magnificent_ muscles.”

“Zevran Arainai, I should have known. Only you would forget your stealth training to watch another man’s ass.” Cullen shook his head but offered his hand. “Good to see you Zev.”

The elf smiled, eyes crinkled in delight. “Imagine my surprise to hear that you arrived in Hercinia, it could only be the work of Leliana. I knew she would not fail. We should depart by nightfall; I fear to delay would invite trouble.”

Cullen gestured for Zevran to lead. “I have to say Zev; you invited trouble when the _Black Shadow_ appeared. It appears your skills improved but not your discretion.”  Cullen referred to Zevran’s culling of the ranks of the Crows after the Blight. He earned the name from multiple kills but Cullen hoped the Crows were unaware they were the same. If this discovery added to the recent assassination of Lord Enzo, Cullen could expect many attempts on Zevran’s life.

Zevran’s weak laugh confirmed Cullen’s fear. “Ah. Yes. There is a possibility we may encounter, how does one say ‘eagerness’ by some of my former associates.”

Cullen pulled Zevran to stop. “How eager would you say, Zev? Kick you out of the city or head on a pike to discourage others?”

Zevran’s smile fell. “Well, I’d have to say the latter. We should leave as soon as possible. I will assume, Master Witcher, you have already planned for transportation and perhaps a destination?”  The elf’s voice raised in volume considerably and his widened eyes verified they were about to be ambushed.

Cullen inhaled and whistled, shrill and sustained. “Shade will come, go with him. He’ll take you to a safe place.”

 “No, my friend, I will not leave you.” Zevran reached for his blades.

Cullen drew first. “Not a chance Zev. I fear Leliana’s wrath more than these men. They aren’t Crows, they’re Mercs. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

Shade parted the people still meandering on the docks as he ran towards Cullen. “Take him, Shade. I’ll find you.” Zevran pulled himself up. Cullen patted Shade’s neck. “Go.”

The horse turned and carried Zevran out of the city. Cullen would face four men alone.

The smell assailed his nostrils; oils of citrus and spice, the smells of Rivain in Harvestmere. Cullen did not need to look at his new companion. “Isabela, I believe my words were ‘stay with the ship’, perhaps I should have said it in several languages to make it stick in that heavily perfumed head of yours?”

Varric made the arrangements for Isabela to bring Cullen across the Waking Sea and back towards Denerim.  She left Kirkwall by the time Cullen arrived, but learned of her many exploits and talents from the others.

“Why else did you bring me along? I’ve the most incredible itch and these boys are perfect for what I need.” She laughed. Cullen could not help but laugh with her. Isabela’s confidence outshined her common sense.

Several screams from passersby cleared the surrounding area.

“I’ll take the two on the right, handsome, if you’ll take the left.”  She crooked her index finger and the advancing men. “Let’s dance, boys.”

Cullen sighed and advanced on the two men while she spun and jumped. “Maker’s breath, does no one fight without flourish?” Cullen took down the first man with several quick slashes of his sword. These were not professionals; Zevran’s identity was secure for now. Cullen side-stepped to dodge the hand ax slung towards him only to slash to his right and scare his attacker into retreat. 

Isabela continued to flip and spin.  He shook his head at the unnecessary display. “Didn’t anyone every tell you not to play with your kills?”

Both men slumped forward as she sliced the air with her blades,  blood flowed and pooled on their tunics. She stepped back.  “This is where you run away or my handsome companion guts you - your choice.”

Both men, realizing the chance to live, turned and ran as fast as injury would allow.  Cullen guided Isabela out of the city and towards the ship.

 “At least tell me you left the ship guarded.” Cullen hoped her reckless behavior did not extend to her beloved ship the _Siren’s Call_.

Isabela scoffed and waved Cullen’s concern away with a flick of her wrist. “She’s fine and well-guarded.  I take it that horse of yours would take Zevran directly to the dock?”

He trusted Shade. “Not directly but eventually; Shade is good at following instructions unlike many pirates I know.”

Isabela purred. “Know many pirates, Cullen?”

“Don’t bother, not interested.” Cullen quipped.

She sighed as she followed him. “Varric told me not to try, but I can’t help myself.”

Cullen moved swiftly towards the private dock and prodded Isabela to keep pace. “Is there a reason you keep lagging behind? I’d like to make way for Denerim as soon as we can.”

“Just enjoying the view handsome, and I promise we are ready to sail as soon as we arrive.” Isabela grinned until Cullen’s glare convinced her he wouldn’t play her game. “Varric was right; you have no sense of humor.” 

“Thank you.” Cullen replied. He could see the dock and the ship ahead of them _.  I’ll stay in Denerim for a few days and then back to Yennelyn._ Cullen thought as he helped with the mooring lines and climbed over the rail as the Siren’s Call set sail and left the dock. Cullen hoped delivering Zevran to Denerim would prove just as quiet.

__________________________________

The trip to Denerim was uneventful as Cullen hoped. When he parted company with Isabela and her crew, he’d fought the desire to stay on board and return to Llommeryn as was her plan.

The first night in Denerim was spent laughing and swapping tales. Zevran took great pleasure in eliciting blushes and stammers from King Alistair still knowing exactly how to make Alistair uncomfortable. 

The second night was for Cullen and Alistair alone or so Cullen thought. He stood in Alistair’s study holding an infant at arm’s length away from his body. “Cullen, you could try holding him, he won’t bite.”

He shifted his weight from side to side. “I am holding it, Alistair. Come on, enough. I can’t father children so there is no point to any of this.” Cullen felt some sense of relief at the small child; he’d been able to help Solona and Alistair escape the Warden curse. Dorian still greatly disapproved of the use of Witcher potions; they were toxic to humans. Cullen guessed the Wardens could withstand the harshness of the formula and survive. This child was proof the taint could be removed.

Alistair grinned at his friend. Cullen, always so sure of himself, always calm in any dangerous situation was perhaps the most uncomfortable man in Denerim at the moment. “The point, old man, is to relax and give my arms a break.” Alistair picked up a swath of cloth. “I have a sling if you prefer.”

Cullen glared but did not raise his voice. The baby’s eyes widened and fixed on the Witcher. “I am not wearing a sling. Take it back, this is ridiculous.”

Alistair shook his head. “He, Cullen, not it and he carries your name, so try to be enthusiastic when Sol arrives.”  Alistair took the baby from Cullen but returned him to Cullen’s arms. “Here, like this.” Alistair guessed Cullen had full knowledge on how to hold a child, he excelled at being stubborn. Alistair positioned his son gently in Cullen’s arms. “Edmund Cullen Theirin, Sol chose his name. “

“Alistair, he carries Cullen’s name. He would have been honored.”

Alistair sighed. “Are you still going to stand in front of me after all these years and tell me you aren’t Cullen?”

**9:30 Dragon**

_“What do you mean you can’t?” Alistair hissed. “After everything we talked about, you refuse? Cullen, what if I fail? I need you with me.”_

_Cullen couldn’t trust the potions and the poultice. In the Deep Roads, one could wander for months if lost. If Cullen lost control, the thought of harming Solona or Alistair swayed his decision to accompany them deep under the ground._

_He looked on the fear in Alistair’s face and tried to lessen the tension.  “I’ve told you before Alistair – you’re not my type.”_

_“Cullen! Would you stop, please?” Alistair’s loud exasperation turned heads in their direction.  “We agreed, if I need you I ask. Well, I’m asking, Cullen. The Legion of the Dead, they trust you and with them on our side we better our chances but if you refuse to travel into the Deep Roads, maybe they won’t help. What if the Dalish clans don’t agree to help- I don’t think we stand a chance with the small group of mages and the Arl’s forces?” Alistair looked back at Solona laughing with Oghren, the dwarf who promised to be their guide.  “What is the point of a happy ending if no one lives to enjoy it?”_

_“Alistair, what if I’m the one who hurts everyone? I could attack you or . . .her.” Cullen warned._

_Alistair shook his head and whispered. “No Cullen you won’t.  Your faith is far stronger than mine and I believe the Maker’s gaze follows you. I know that sounds stupid coming from me. You think I’m a joke - just a boy playing at Templar and Warden pretending next to be a king; you will harm none of us, Cullen. You’re a good man.”_

_Cullen scoffed._

_“Yes, damn you, I am tired of hearing about the monster you think you are!” Solona’s head turned as Alistair continued. “You are not an abomination or a creature. You tried to save those Templars in the tower; you took on demons and mages alone to help the Circle.” Alistair tried to find more to convince Cullen to stay. He smiled and pointed at him. “Oh, wait, that damned dragon at the temple! Cullen, while we paraded around looking for Andraste’s ashes, you fought the dragon so we could pass.”_

_Solona joined them. “Only because you rang the gong, Alistair, remember?”_

_“Yes, ok, I get it now. Just because it’s there does not mean I should test to see if it works.”  He shook his head. Alistair guessed that his small error in judgement would be remembered for a long time._

_Solona continued. “Cullen, a creature uses instinct alone to survive; a monster cares not for any other. You are he, the Templar, the friend – my friend.  Your body is changed but not the soul or the heart. Think what you will, I will believe the truth.” She left them staring after her as she returned to continue her conversation with the dwarf._

_“She’s formidable; it’s intriguing to see her this way.” Cullen said._

_“Back off, find your own mage.” Alistair teased._

_“Witcher is far more attractive than Warden in my book.” Cullen said and glanced at Alistair._

_The two men faced each other each one ready to out quip the other. “Oh really and what of King?” Alistair crossed his arms and grinned sure he’d won the round._

_“Sol and I will check back with you when you are king.” Cullen said hiding a smile as he walked away._

_Alistair hurried to catch up. “Hey! You weren’t serious, were you?”_

_“You make it all too easy, Alistair.” Cullen stopped and watched Solona. “Thanks, Alistair for what you said, for a minute there I could almost see you as king.”_

_“Wow. Thank you, Cullen that means a lot coming from you.” Alistair said._

_Cullen turned and the hint of smirk caught Alistair’s attention. “Almost.”  Cullen laughed and resumed his walk. He called back to Alistair as he continued on. “All too easy, my friend.”_

____________________________________

Cullen stared into the fireplace as Alistair shared the memory of their discussion in Orzammar.  Edmund fell asleep at some point in the tale.

Alistair whispered. “If I’d known you could put him to sleep I would have asked you to come sooner. He never sleeps long and Sol needed the rest.”

Cullen shifted on the chaise but the baby did not stir. “She deserves a life, not following me around Thedas.”

Alistair’s confusion pulled him back. “Who are we . . .oh. I’ve never met Lady Trevelyan, or whoever she may be. But I see you and the look on your face when you speak of her.  What if the life she wants _is_ following you all over Thedas?” Alistair leaned on the mantelpiece.  “What if you weren’t able to help us? What if we - like all the others - could hear than damnable tune? Then what? That perfect little boy would not be here for one thing and perhaps both she and I would fight alongside you instead of working to bring nations together.”

Edmund stirred and Cullen picked up the sound of soft fabric rustles and light foot pads on stone.  _Solona. But you knew that didn’t you, little one?_ _I wonder._ Cullen did not complete his thought but smiled in response to Solona’s delighted expression. “I regret to inform you I cannot allow you to leave. You are now Cullen’s nanny.” She giggled.

“Wait, Alistair said his name is Edmund?”  Cullen looked from Alistair to Solona.

“It is, but I lied.” Alistair explained. “He’ll be Edmund in everything official, but to us, he’s Cullen.  He’s named after a good man.”

Solona held out her arms and Cullen stood to hand the baby to her. “Surprised?” She asked accepting the small boy, Cullen’s gaze following his namesake as she sat to rest.  “Zevran’s been giving me advice for the last hour on proper feeding techniques. I sent him to the kitchens after he offered to demonstrate.”

“I assume you declined, my love?” Cullen and Alistair glanced at one another and both snickered. Alistair attempted to gain his composure.

Solona continued. “Yes, he offered to tutor your son in breast appreciation and rather than argue with Zevran, I suggested he seeks you out to discuss in the morning.” 

 Cullen coughed to cover the bark of laughter and rubbed his face with his hands. “It’s a wonder we accomplished anything at all.”

The baby fussed and Solona looked to Cullen. “Would you like to hold him again? You’ll be leaving in the morning and who knows how long until we see you again.”

Cullen raised his eyebrow. “This has nothing to do with the fact he fell asleep in my arms before?” He accepted the baby from her and the fussing stopped.

“I’m surprised you’d think there was an ulterior motive, Cullen.” Solona smiled and closed her eyes as she leaned back in her chair.  The three sat in silence interrupted by the occasional pop of the firewood or the soft sigh of the child Cullen lulled into sleep. Alistair returned to his chair and looked on his wife and closest friend and he too felt his eyes grow heavy until Cullen’s voice pulled him into total awareness.

“I didn’t expect to live at Fort Drakon. I lied to you both. I didn’t know what would happen.  I couldn’t take the chance of you losing one another. Morrigan- she tried to convince me of something I knew was wrong.” Cullen looked down at Alistair’s son.  “It’s time I told you both the truth.”

**_9:31 Dragon:  Denerim - Guerrin Estate_ **

_“You’re a fool. What harm to either of them? We are not like the others, Cullen. I can save them. Are you listening at all?” Morrigan and Cullen spoked in hushed whispers arguing the unthinkable._

_Cullen put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. “I can’t allow it. Your mother’s grimoire is dangerous, Morrigan and there are no guarantees. You could bring about more destruction.”_

_Morrigan disagreed. “Mother was many things, but never wrong. The book speaks the truth and you would ignore it. ‘Tis a simple ritual that ends in sex and saves them and I fail to see the doom you insist will rise.” Morrigan rested her palm on Cullen’s cheek expecting him to lean to her as he did so many times before. He pulled back and startled her._

_“You suggest to carry the soul, the essence of the old god in child’s body and assert you do not know the consequences and expect me to show affection? I have never hidden any part of what I am from you and now you stand here and lie? Morrigan I know you lie - the book explains much more doesn’t it? I will not be a part of this and swear I will keep you from Alistair.”_

_“Why do you persist in this old belief? They are dragons in form only -the form given to the gods in their slumber. Thedas is dying. You feel it too and you see it in the land it its people. The dwarves are weak, they bicker and fight amongst themselves and gain nothing. The elves? A people so full of their own history and sagging beliefs they refuse to see the future will move on without them! That leaves the Qunari and the humans. They will see the truth of this and then what? Tevinter and Par Vollen will spill on this land and destroy whatever is left. We can bring truth and deliver Thedas from this madness.”_

_Cullen stepped back, disbelief and concern leaving him with a decision he did not want to make. “Madness? Listen to what you saying. Madness feeds every word you utter, Morrigan. You and your mother play with forces unable to be controlled. You condemn Thedas in your bid for supremacy.”_

_“We are better. My mother prepared me for this, the Inheritor. You know this to be true. This is the step Cullen and with you the future can be assured.”_

_She tried to hold take his hands in hers and explain. “Cullen, there is no danger. Think of the knowledge, the guidance such a child could provide. Can you not look beyond the terrible things you see in your head? Imagine Thedas led by the wisdom and knowledge of the ancients!”_

_Cullen pulled away and stepped back. “Morrigan stop now, I’m begging you please do not force my hand.”_

_Morrigan sneered. “A Witcher begs for obedience? None of these people care for you as I do! Not one. Not Alistair and certainly not your precious Solona. No one need know the outcome. Solona can convince Alistair but you must convince her.“_

_Cullen stepped closer to her. He needed to be quick and stop her without injury or memory. Cullen raised his right hand, and she did the same to grasp it. His left hand shot out to grab her right, and he drew the Axii sign. “Alistair refused the ritual, and he knows the consequences. Sleep, Morrigan. You will wake rested and forget I was here and our conversation.” He’d never used the Axii sign to control another, not once. He’d crossed the first line drawn by him to keep his humanity. Axii could sway beasts and men alike to bend them to his will. If he desired through Axii he could rule Thedas. Cullen dismissed the thoughts racing through his head and focused on Morrigan._

_“Yes, sleep.” Morrigan’s voice a sliver of its usual tone. “Alistair refused.”_

_Cullen scooped Morrigan in his arms and carried her to the bed. “Forgive me.” Cullen made sure she fell into a deep sleep before leaving her room._

Cullen looked at the child in his arms. “That was the first and only time in my life I’ve used Axii on someone close to me.  Alistair, I took your contract after Amaranthine. I couldn’t do it – take her life and I’m sorry. I didn’t love Morrigan but I couldn’t fail her either and that is why she lives now.“  Cullen inhaled and held it for a minute before exhaling  and continued his confession. “I’ve failed you both more than I care to admit and I must ask that you rethink your son’s name.”

Solona and Alistair spoke as one.  “No.”

Alistair continued. “I appreciate everything you’ve shared Cullen, but it changes nothing between us.”

Both men watched as Solona wound her shawl around her hand only to unwind and start again. Cullen knew her thoughts before she spoke. “Morrigan is  . . .”

He nodded. “There is no child.”

 _________________________________

She knows this is a dream. Yennelyn hears music filter through the surrounding stillness; there is something familiar about it, the words older than time and harsh as the music. A memory of a stringed instrument and boxes used as drums, a raw sound of warning and pleading to an unseen god. She breathes faster; heart pounding knowing there is something waiting in the dark with her.

_Cullen, I need you._

He does not come. “Cullen? “  She speaks tentatively aloud but fear of being alone with what waits prompts her to find her courage. “Cullen!”

A scrape of a boot heel, the sound of a strop of leather tightening along with chain mail settling – his sounds. Her eyes close and without warning she is grabbed and held. A scream issues forth from her until his voice, and a soothing low baritone she’s known for so long finds her ear. “I’m here, Yen.”

She settles into his arms. A scream issues forth from the dark. “Cullen!”  The voice is not hers, Ferelden. She frowns. _Solona_. A scarlet light explodes illuminating the space before her. Cullen cuts furiously at something billowing in a frenetic wind. Yennelyn sees her – a woman wrapped in silks and fabrics floating in the air. Cullen continues his work to free the other, an unmistakable golden circlet around her head. As he hacks the fabrics binding Solona they fly to Yennelyn restraining her legs. Cullen carries off the Ferelden leaving Yennelyn alone with the strange woman before her.

Yennelyn cannot move and the woman hovers in a blast of air; rising and falling caught in the breath of what holds her. The churning winds move impossibly long swaths of cloth around her, shimmering red silks rippling around her form until they fall into the void below only to be replaced by another. Another swath comes from her left side and swarms around her in violet hued lace tracing a path around her. Yennelyn sees a second figure is trapped in the maelstrom.

“Cullen!” Another cry for help, a richer, sultrier voice, and this one is familiar. _Morrigan_.

Again he races to the opposite side and slashes the fabrics binding the other, sending them to restrain Yennelyn’s arms and torso. Only her neck and face are unbound, and she struggles as the woman before her laughs.

Yennelyn calls to Cullen, pleads with him without response. He is gone.  

Yennelyn gasps as a black shroud falls from above passes through the woman. _Make your final wish, Renae._ She tries to scream but cannot. 

When Yennelyn wakes to full awareness she is shocked to find Cole and Dorian in her tent. Dorian’s face is pulled taut and Cole sits alongside her rocking wildly. “I did not mean to wake either of you. A nightmare, I apologize.”

 Her voice is hoarse, cracked and Yennelyn rubs her throat to soothe the pain.

Dorian tried to find the right words. “My. . .Inquisitor . . . Yennelyn, no one sleeps at this moment. We thought – your screams were deafening. We thought- it’s not important. Cole felt something and he tried to help. He’s been sitting with you for the past hour.“

Cole spoke, soft and calm despite his frenetic movement. “She wants you to forgive her, she didn’t know. She says to find the Witcher and go, Renae.”

Yennelyn held back her anger. “I can’t now Cole. We’re close. When Corypheus is gone, I’ll go.”

He sighed and stopped his movement. “I know.”

Yennelyn asked Dorian to give her a moment alone with Cole. He nodded and left the tent and a wall of sound and questions and shouts could be heard as she turned to Cole.

“What happens now?” Yennelyn asked.

“Once she forgets, she’ll help.” Cole offered.

_______________________________________

Skyhold slept save the sentries on duty and another in the garden. She wandered alone towards a storage room. A doorway, nothing more in the guise of a mirror uncovered in a single pull as the fabric billowed around her.  She stroked the side, the carved gilded wood calling to her once more. She’d hoped years ago he would have hidden from the world with her. She placed her hand on the mirror and a surge of power blasted through the small room. She realized he would never leave Thedas .

The hum, the resonance of the space between reached out for her again until she clenched her fist and severed the link.

A small burst of magic sent the covering back in place. She spoke to no one as the door closed behind her. “As you wish Cullen, without you.”  Morrigan stepped back into the garden, unaware her lonely actions called to another.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


	16. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen searches for the Inquisitor and her party in the Hissing Wastes, concerned the many side trips dull their purpose, while all around him plans and alliances are made without his knowledge. Cullen's scars are easily seen, but the scars given by him leave no visible mark but could haunt him no less than his own.

 

Fear no longer troubled him the way it shadowed the steps of most; Cullen’s wish to meet death eye to eye buried the cold sweats and tremors in his voice experienced as a young man. Cullen no longer turned from danger; he relished it and called to it to find him to test his worth.  Four Lurkers found him as his crossed the Hissing Wastes to locate the Inquisition.

Cullen’s sword raised at the ready he shifted from left to right ready to strike. “Is that the best you can do? Come on!” The Lurker snarled and took a tentative step forward. “You see the others on the sand and don’t know if you should run or fight.  I’m in your head now, beast. One more step and this is where you fall.” Cullen defeated the other three with a fresh scratch on his leg and hand, but only one creature remained.

The Lurker twisted his head to the right, opened his jaws and took a single step. Cullen growled and twisted his body full circle to hack the creature on his right, the momentum and strength of the Witcher within severed the head of the creature in a single strike.

Cullen hunted the sands of the wastes whenever he needed to think or to work out a problem books and logic could not solve.  The hot sands in the daylight were more deadly than the creatures which roamed in the night. Cullen preferred the Varghest and Wyvern - formidable foes. He once brought back the head of a Varghest strapped to Shade’s saddle to annoy Dorian.

The problem now was finding the party. He’d stopped in Skyhold after concluding his visit with Alistair and Solona. Leliana was, in her own way, pleased with the outcome.

 _“Excellent. Well done. I trust His Majesty is well, Solona and the child, too?_ _”  Leliana asked head still buried in reports._

 _Cullen leaned on her papers._ _“I'm impressed; you almost make be believe you do not care for any of them. I delivered Zevran as requested, but I did not specify if he lived. Perhaps he did not return in one piece._ _”_

 _She lifted her head and the cool gaze of a woman who did not bluff stared into his narrowed eyes._ _“Don_ ' _t test me, Cullen. Word passed my desk within hours of boarding the ship and entering the city. The news of your arrival in Skyhold touched my ears before your horse crossed the gate. If you test me, you will lose. I tell you these things with great affection my friend, but in the game of deception_ _– I will always win._ _”_

 _Cullen moved to her side and whispered into her ear._ _“Perhaps, but I can disarm the mighty spymaster with a whisper._ _” Her body betrayed her and shivered. Cullen laughed._

 _She wheeled around to face him and pushed him back._ _“I hate it when you do that.  It_ _’s almost like a purr, Cullen and unnerving and-_ _“ She struggled for the first  time in their conversation to find the right words. The sounds of his voice brought back whispered conversations with Solona and Wynne questioning his ability to confound them with a whisper. None of them acted or questioned his motives, Cullen teased them all, except Morrigan. He left her unscathed. Only in recent months Leliana learned why. It was the one secret from their past hidden from her._

 _“Disarming is the word you are searching for, Lil. I do so with great affection. Yes, Zevran lives and is well, offering to teach baby Edmund the skills needed for effective breast feeding, usual Zev._ _”_

 _Leliana shuffled her papers until she found one and pulled it from the pile with care._ _“Edmund? I thought the baby_ _’s name was Cullen?_ _” He grumbled, and she laughed in return._ _“I told you Cullen, a word crosses my desk when the moment passes._ _”_

 _Cullen crossed his arms and shifted his weight. He didn_ _’t believe her. She glanced up from the paper._ _“Perhaps a letter found me after Solona birthed her son. She let me know all was well and asked me to keep the news to myself, which I did. So in the strictest sense of my claim, word crossed my desk, a little after it happened._ _”_

 _“Uh huh.  So, great Spymaster of the Inquisition, where are they?_ _”  Cullen asked._

 _She pulled up a field report and handed it to him."Hissing Wastes. The Iron Lady was dismissed and it seems Celene is concerned about a report accusing_ _the former Court Enchanter of poisons and curses, but I cannot say who provided such scandalous information to the Empress and her court._ _”_

 _Leliana_ _’s emphasis on the word former meant Celene took the information as truth. He bit his lip to hide a smile._ _“You cannot say._ _”  Leliana nodded in agreement. Cullen watched her shuffle papers about with no discernible pattern. She sent the report, Cullen could be sure of it. Celene would never accept an anonymous note or letter accusing a court member of impropriety. They were all thieves and liars and murderers. The difference settled on their lands and titles; the bigger the title and holdings the more forgiving the populace. Cullen guessed there was far more hidden in the report than Leliana shared._ _“I wonder if this report contained a perceived threat against the Inquisitor?_ _”_

 _Leliana kept his expression still._ _“One would think any threat to the Inquisitor would concern the Empress and the King of Ferelden._ _“_

 _Cullen stretched._ _“Well played, whoever thought it important to alert both courts._ _”_

 _She nodded._ _“Yes. Strategic one might say, but I_ _’ve kept you too long Master Witcher, the wastes are to the west in case you_ _’ve forgotten._ _”_

 _He opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Leliana meant no disrespect; she had as much tact as he when they talked. Cullen turned his head towards the stairs and then back to her._ _“By your leave, my lady?_ _”  Cullen bowed._

 _“You look ridiculous when you bow, Cullen. Out. Knowing Bull and Dorian they_ _’ve talked the Inquisitor into hunting the Howler._ _”  Leliana warned._

 _“Dorian knows our history with the Howler, he wouldn_ _’t. I_ _’m more concerned about the numbers of the Red Templars mentioned in your report._ _”_

Two days in the wastes and no sign of the Red Templars or Inquisition. Cullen wouldn’t move around much beyond sunrise himself and guessed the camps must be well hidden. He’d been fighting beasts with every dune he crested. The Howler’s lair made the most sense. There were crevices where he could wait out the sun and the Tomb of Fairel, but he’d never tried to open it. A complex puzzle could open the tomb; he guessed it must be so due to the veil fire brazier on a wall. The brazier with veil fire hinted to hidden words and runes but veil fire stung his eyes, white hot blinding pain if he looked at a brazier when lit.  Cullen figured out veil fire was the key, but would have to rely on the others to work the puzzle.

An hour’s climb, he reached the lair of the Sandy Howler. She’d given him a violent remembrance of their battle together: four deep channels carved from his right shoulder across his back to his left hip. She’d torn through his harness, his armor and through his flesh, but Yen was unharmed. The scars were small compared to losing Yen. Dawn approached and  shadows birthed out from the rocks forced Cullen to hurry his climb up the dune towards her lair.

The first hot blast of air and sand in his face warned him she was rising one more time to hunt before the sun rose. Gurns: large lumbering beasts that trudged through the sands of the wastes were her favorite snack.  The Howler enjoyed the challenge, and despite heavy hide, hardened plate on its spine and a sharp horn on its head, the beasts were slow and easy for her to find. Cullen flattened his back against one of the few unbroken stone pillars and waited. _Fine time to want a snack. She must want something to fill her belly before sleeping again. No problem as long as it_ _’s not me._

The sounds of a waking dragon toyed with the hardiest of warriors; wings stretch - tendons within pop and creak; the first flap a slap against the air to test and stretch.  Then the neck bones crack as she wakes into awareness. A snort, followed by a deep inhale mouth opened wide. She tastes the air for what may have stumbled into her sanctuary. A low growl resonates.

 _Shit. If she can smell me, I_ _’m too far away from the rock face to run._ A few short exhales and Cullen sprints to his left and crouches behind a broken pillar. The Howler senses his movement and turns her head rapidly. _If she takes to the air, I won_ _’t be able to see with sand in my face._ Cullen exhaled again and turned to run to the next pillar as the Howler's tail thrashed back and forth.  She knows an intruder is in her space.  He slipped on a branch and then regained his balance and the simple misstep birthed a plan.

The hiding space provided by the stone placed him behind the Howler. If Cullen could send off a single burst of Igni to burn the dry brush around her, he could move to the opposite side and circle around to the tomb. A path wound its way back to the dunes. A few hours in the daylight he could survive, searching for Yen would be easier without the constant battles.  Cullen wondered where Shade rested until he returned each trip, but the horse escaped every visit without a scratch. _Now it_ _’s my turn._

Cullen abandoned his hiding spot and stepped around brush and debris. He drew the Ignii sign and a burst of flame stretched out igniting the brush around them both. Cullen leapt and rolled to his right and dashed around the enraged Howler as she turned towards the origin of the flames.  He used her distracted attention to sprint around her.  

Cullen hurried around the Howler’s lair past the Tomb of Fairel and back towards the dune. Air rushed near his right ear; the thump of a solid mass against the ground and the tremor beneath his feet warned him of the Howler’s intent to crush him with her tail.

 _Bitch. I will be back for your head and that fucking tail_. Cullen thought.  He slipped behind the outcropping of rock and retraced his steps down the dunes. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the lingering dawn. _An hour, maybe two before the sun will be unbearable._

Cullen could not stop if he meant to reach the outcropped rocks within the hour.  A witcher is many things, but not immortal or immune to the elements - he can freeze and he can burn. Cullen knew his tolerance levels for the brilliant sun of the Wastes and would not seek to venture beyond the hunter’s camp. He reached the northern dune a little less than two hours as predicted. Looking out into the wastes, nothing roamed as far as his vision could discern. Cullen would resume his search just before dusk. 

_____________________________

“Nasty little blighters.” Dorian roasted another spider with a barrage of flame as it scurried past the tomb entrance. Varric, Bull and Blackwall glared at him. “What do you object to, I ask? If I have to sit here away from the comforts I enjoy, you will allow me the tiniest of indulgences, in this case frying the blasted spiders.”

His eyes wandered to Yennelyn staring deep into the fire. “I remember that look – and we will not be engaging the beast. I have few friends and would prefer to stay on Cullen’s good side.”

Bull sighed. “What’s the big deal, it’s a dragon – I say we hunt it.” Dorian snapped his head towards Bull and shook his head.

Yennelyn’s head rested on her knees, pulled up tight to her chin. Dorian followed a streak of tears as she silently cried. “Please don’t do that, if you cry then I shall and puffy is not where you want to be when we find Cullen.”  He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Keep it.” This new Yen disturbed Dorian – gone was the strong, independent and fierce woman he loathed, replaced by someone he could not bear to see in pain. “He’s somewhere nearby, we heard the Howler yesterday. No doubt she’s pissed. We’ll head to the next tomb after the sun sets.”

Yennelyn exhaled sharp breaths trying to push back the sadness. “His back, that’s her handiwork or mine rather because I could not listen to him. Cole was right - every mark is mine; his body carries the weight of my failures.”

Bull coughed. “The lip scar is new; he didn’t have that when I first met him.”

 _The lip scar, s_ he thought. “It was my fault. When it happened, I thought nothing of it, a simple miscalculation or perhaps it is more correct to say I was not serious about listening to his instruction.  Cullen tried to teach me how to use a sword – his sword. Solona and Alistair both fought with him and either would draw his spare sword direct from his harness.“

Blackwall sat forward. “A dangerous maneuver, a simple misstep and both could be injured, but an innovative tactic, reckless.  I can see the merit and how the Witcher might use such moves.”

The crease in her forehead deepened as Yennelyn took exception to Blackwall’s implied disrespect. "The _Witcher_ has a name, Warden Blackwall. Cullen. If it is too difficult for common courtesy then address him as Ser Rutherford. I will not tolerate disrespect of him.”

 “I apologize if I offended you, Inquisitor. I used the word as a title, not a curse.”  Blackwall apologized.  “I would like to know more about your training; I recall Commander Rylen tried sword techniques and settled on the daggers for you after a few hours of work.”

She leaned back and shared the tale.

 _“Yen, stop messing around- there_ _’s a shield in your hand, block with it!_ _” Cullen yelled._ _“If I was your enemy you_ _’d be dead!_ _”_

 _She rolled her eyes and laughed._ _“I_ _’m a mage, not a soldier. The shield is too heavy, and the sword is so bulky I_ _’d be better off swinging a plank of wood._ _” Cullen stared at her unmoved._ _“This is too heavy for me._ _”_

 _“Yen, it_ _’s not too heavy, a shield with your weight behind it can protect you from foes twice your size. Magic can fail, a sword can break but learn to stand fast with a shield and you will walk away._ _”  Cullen paced and continued his lesson._ _“When one foe is defeated his armor or weapons can aid you as much as any potion or spell. I may not always be near you, learn to use these tools, please._ _”_

 _She crossed her arms._ _“Fine. Rush me. I_ _’ll show you I can handle it._ _”_

 _“Yen. . ._ _” Cullen warned._

 _She crossed her arms and shifted from right to left the way he did and mimicked his warning tone._ _“Yen._ _”  She marched with purpose and poked his chest much to his amusement._ _“I can take whatever you throw at me Cullen, so do it_ _– come at me and don_ _’t patronize me._ _”_

 _He shrugged and waited for her to move just as she turned around to face him he sprinted into her and hoisted her over his shoulder. Yennelyn yelped._ _“That was a dirty trick, I wasn_ _’t ready._ _”_

 _Cullen lifted her off his shoulder and with care returned her to her feet._ _“That_ _’s my point Yen; do you think your foes will wait in turn to fight you? Will they grant you the courtesy to prepare? No. Had you a shield in your hand you could have pushed back. Do you understand?_ _”  He grabbed his neck with both hands._ _“Given the choice, the shield gives you an opportunity to walk away._ _”_

 _She stomped over to retrieve the shield and sword._ _”Happy?_ _”_

 _Yennelyn caught his smirk and the twinkle in his eye._ He plans to rush me to prove a point. _Cullen drew his blade and dashed towards her. Rather than drop the sword and use two hands on the shield, she dropped the shield to the ground, closed her eyes and swung the sword unbalanced towards the left. She heard a grunt and felt wet droplets on her arm; she_ _’d made contact._ _“Cullen!_ _” Yen shouted him name again and let the sword loose from her grasp._

 _She hurried beside him to see the blood on his face, beard and tunic. Cullen hunched over holding his face with one hand and digging into his pack with the other. He_ _’d swallowed two potions and walked towards Shade when she reached him. He_ _’d stopped bleeding but the shock at her handiwork buckled her knees._

 _The sword she wielded split his upper right lip and while she knew he_ _’d heal by morning, the split would need to be stitched to heal overnight._ _“I_ _’m so sorry, let me help._ _” To her surprise he handed her the kit and chuckled._ _“Nice move,_ _“ he said, holding his mouth. His words, muffled, but; he told her she did well, by using the sword she unbalanced him and while it was not the lesson he_ _’d intended, but he congratulated her._

“Cullen congratulated me on winning the round and that I could make contact.” She shook her head in disbelief although the even happened in the past. “I stitched the lip and numbed the pain for him and by morning, he had a new scar- number thirty-nine, yet another testament to my love and affection.” The bitterness in her words silenced additional questions.  

Yennelyn rose and joined Dorian where he sat alone. He stiffened at first. He’d endured so much venom and hatred from her for so long this gentleness she shared confused him; but he recognized the truth: they were far more alike than he would care to admit – both reviled by family, both forced onto an unwanted life path and both of them very much alone . . . until Cullen. Dorian bent his head towards Yennelyn to hide his words from the others.  “I have made mistake after glorious mistake in my life except for two occasions. One of which was the day I joined the Inquisition. The fuck-up and the missing princess - what a pair we are. All thanks to Cullen we are both here because that unforgivably noble bastard decided we were worth keeping alive.”

She understood the sentiment behind Dorian’s words. Cullen saved her many times but her epiphany of thought centered not on Cullen but on Dorian. “If you are willing Dorian, perhaps you would consider helping me to set Tevinter right once again. The Archon and his supporters must be removed peacefully and Tevinter join the other nations. I’ve lost my tenacity and fear I won’t hold fast to my original plan.”

The restoration of Tevinter in strength and purpose long fascinated Dorian. He hoped to one day see a strong and confident homeland. “If you ask that I help you find your inner shrew again; I am afraid I must respectfully decline.” Yennelyn’s shoulders drooped at his statement. “If you, Princess, ask me to help you take our home from those who have tarnished and twisted the Imperium – I am your humble servant and will see it done.”

A grin stretched across Dorian’s face in response to Yennelyn’s laughter. “Too much?” He asked, joining in to laugh with her until her laughter subsided into a sigh.

______________________________

Skyhold slept, a hooded figure prowled through the main hall and through a side door seeking kindred. Leliana could not speak to the others about her concerns: _Josephine and Rylen could not be told. Cullen was blind or ignored the truth. Only one other might see the danger facing the Inquisition and possibly all of Thedas and yet without a shared trust could we ignore personal concerns and work together?_ Leliana’s thoughts could no longer be hidden away.

She stepped into the courtyard and her eyes caught the glow of another in the torchlight. “Morrigan.”

“Curious, Sister Nightingale, your name conjures fear amongst the nobility in Orlais and yet the nightingale is revered for its song, _not_ as a bird of prey. ‘Tis a raptor I see before me this night, but I wonder  - am I to be the victim or the bait?” Morrigan’s tone full of mocking and disdain fell on emotionless ears.

“Careful Morrigan, I am not your enemy – yet. We share a similar concern. You know what lies beneath, don’t you? Justinia knew and kept it from me. Will you do the same?” Leliana stood without moving, Morrigan could not discern a single breath or a blink.

Morrigan studied Leliana in silence. _Leliana is not the same as she once was - the nightingale_ _’s sweet song replaced by the sharpened blade at her boot._ “I am afraid I do not understand the question. Skyhold has many secrets; I could not know them all.” _I will play your game for now._ Morrigan wandered towards the gazebo and waited.  _‘Tis time to see what the little bird has heard and how far she might go._

Commander Rylen, unaware of the secrets and plans of others, paced in his tower office a crumpled letter clutched in his hand.  “I am Commander of the Inquisition’s armies not some first year recruit!”

“Ser?” The aide, confused at the private rant the commander seemed to have with himself the aide was unsure what to do.

“Leave me.“ Rylen barked.  He waited for the aide to leave. Rylen read the missive again from the Order. _Cullen Rutherford was recorded lost at age eighteen if the Witcher proves to be the missing Templar his family must be notified of his survival. Rylen_ _’s orders were to discover the identity of the Witcher and contact his family and send his report to the Seekers and to the Spire. Secure the Witcher_ _’s loyalty to the Order._  Rylen resisted the urge to spit. “Never, I will see him dead before he is taken into the Order.”

Rylen’s aide hurried to Lady Montilyet’s office and relayed the Commander’s state of anger and the contents of the letter. She was placed by Josephine and Leliana to watch Rylen’s movements. Cullen earned assurances of shelter in Ferelden and Orlais, but the Order or the Seekers of Truth might try to interfere. Josephine crept up the stairs to see Leliana and was not surprised to find her area empty as Leliana did her best work under cover of night. She would find Leliana in the morning but for now she could rest knowing Cullen was in the Wastes with the Inquisitor and could not be touched, but for how long Josephine could not say. She found Ferelden’s messenger and slipped the note into the small catch on his leg. The bird, well trained and one of Leiliana’s favorites could follow the simple command of ‘go’ to set him towards Denerim. 

___________________ 

The waning sunlight brought new dangers as Cullen continued across the wastes in search of the others; it was not his bond that drew Cullen towards the tombs, but Dorian’s handiwork _. Charred spiders_ , Cullen thought, _Dorian_ _’s idea of fun._ He chuckled as a small scattering of carcasses pinpointed the party’s camp within the second tomb area. The sun’s light diminished more as Cullen approached the entrance and a barrage of fire, five separate lashes of searing flames shot out from the opening in the sands. Cullen flashed a Quen sign and his shield lessened the burn. “Damn you Dorian! It’s me!”

A feminine laugh, a scuffle of multiple bodies and a clear voice met Cullen’s ears. “Nice going, Sparkler, fry the man why don’t you? We’re here Curly - that is if there’s anything left of you.”

Dorian met him at the entrance only to have Cullen knock him back. “The sun isn’t set yet, you’ll burn.”

Yennelyn tried to push past Dorian. “Cullen are you mad? The sun . . . how long have you been out?”

Dorian grinned. “The shrew returns. Yes, Cullen how long have you been out in the sun?” The grin dissolved as Cullen glared back at Dorian. “We’ve been waiting here for several days while you take tea with that damnable dragon and sunbathe on the sands. Meanwhile, we are left to deal with the Venatori, the spiders and all manner of creatures.”  Cullen stood arms crossed without an expression on his face. Dorian’s bravado worn down, he sighed. “Yes, I’m done. Nice of you to join us.”  Cullen clapped his hand on Dorian’s shoulder and moved towards Yennelyn.

She stepped backwards until her body hit the wall. Cullen chuckled. “You’ve run out of room.”

Varric sighed. “Oh great, here we go.”

Yennelyn ignored Varric’s comment. “So I have, I waited for you Cullen.”

He leaned closer. “I’ve missed you. You look beautiful.” 

She looked away. “Beautiful? All covered in sand and sweat?”

Varric coughed. “Here it comes.”

Cullen kissed her and smiled as he pulled away. “You look beautiful all covered in sand and sweat.”

Varric made a retching sound. “Now I know I will be ill.”

A bolt of lightning struck near Varric’s feet. Yennelyn’s expression dared him to continue but melted into a sly smile as she spoke to Cullen. “You were saying.”

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “Good to see you, Yen. Tell me what you’ve discovered.  The tomb of Fairel can be opened with Veil Fire if you have figured out the other puzzles?”

Cassandra stepped tentatively. “That’s it?  I’ve missed you; you look beautiful and then tell me what is happening? What kind of romance is that?”

“Careful, your human side is showing.” Dorian walked towards his pack and shook his head. “What did you expect Lady Cassandra?”

Cassandra’s face burned as all turned to look at her.   “I meant the Inquisitor deserved a more appropriate greeting before demanding a report from her.”

Yennelyn addressed Cassandra. “In the interest of Varric’s  _gentle_ constitution and wanting to keep part of,” she glanced at Cullen, ”my personal relationship to myself, I ask your indulgence to forgive the display so we may find the remaining Venatori and Red Templars and leave this blighted sand trap.”

Dorian clapped. “Well said, my dear.” Cullen’s raised brow and wide eyes prompted Dorian to nod deliberately.

Cullen understood there was much to discuss but now was not the time.  

Yennelyn and Cassandra worked together and split the party into separate groups. They would work their way through any remaining Venatori stragglers and meet up at the Tomb. Cullen, Bull, Varric and Dorian would sweep the sites again while the others headed towards the large Tomb.

“Leave the Howler for now; we’ll have our chance but not tonight.” Cullen warned Yennelyn and Cassandra, “it will take considerable time to return to Skyhold and we need to find Samson.”

The two women, heads bent in secrecy talked in hushed tones reviewing the map of the tomb area.

“Yen, leave the fucking dragon. I’m serious; if you can’t get into the tomb let it alone and head back to Skyhold.” Yennelyn and Cassandra continued to ignore Cullen inciting long held frustrations and anger.

Dorian and Varric witnessed an emotional eruption from Cullen before and the focus of that sudden torrent of emotion ended up dead and although neither feared Cullen would harm the ladies if this slight continued Cullen would leave them. Months of chasing after Yennelyn, answering the King’s summons, Celene’s orders and putting himself in front of the Inquisition’s front lines wore Cullen’s usual detachment from the surrounding events to bare nerves. Dorian saw it. Varric knew it well. Kirkwall had done the same to him. Yennelyn seemed to ignore the simple truth: for all his skills Cullen was still a man – a man with deadly skills who had nothing left to give. 

“Uh, Seeker? Pay attention; I think you’re missing something important here.” Varric tried to interrupt.  

“Be quiet, Varric. I believe we can take care of the tomb and the dragon.” Cassandra waived him off as they continued their discussion until chaos sent them flying backwards and landing on the ground – a dagger the cause of the burst of fear and confusion. Cullen growled and left the camp.

“You’re mad!” Cassandra screamed at him as he walked out into the night. “You could have injured us.”

 Cullen stalked out towards the Dracolisks tied up at the Venatori camp remnants. Bull was preparing the other three as Cullen took the closest mount and climbed up. “Don’t you want to wait for the others?” Bull asked.

“No. The Seeker wants the Howler and if it will get Yen to stop fucking around in the desert and get to Skyhold, I guess I need to collect the head of the fucking dragon. See you around Bull.”  Cullen urged the Dracolisk to run with Bull watching him take off into the darkness. 

Yennelyn and Dorian ran out of the entrance first followed by the others. Blackwall and Varric hurried to Bull. “Shit, he’s pissed,” Bull offered,  “said he was going after the dragon – what happened?”

Blackwall shook his head. “Maker’s balls, he went alone? Come on, we have to help him.”

Cassandra scoffed. “If he thinks acting like a child will fix anything –“

Solas had remained quiet and contemplative throughout the time in the wastes. “I must interrupt, Lady Cassandra.”  Solas started. “I find myself compelled to agree with the Witcher – Ser Cullen. As an apostate by your governing rules, I see the folly in these detours. The Inquisitor is far more concerned with chasing after a beast than the true harm to Thedas. He will eliminate your distraction to aid in your focus and perhaps in the process sacrifice himself yet again.” He frowned. “I have sworn to stay by your side Inquisitor and I find our lack of progress disturbing, which leads me to comprehend why Ser Cullen has left to face the dragon alone.”

Cullen continued to force the Dracolisk to avoid the night hunters; the varghests, wyverns and lurkers and dash closer and closer to the Howler’s lair. Yen, Hawke, Solona  -Acasius warned me attachments bred mistakes.  I’ll give Yen her dragon as I gave Hawke back Anders in one piece and Solona. . . Alistair wasn’t ready for the Werewolves and the Lady of the Forest, but he wouldn’t listen.

 _“Alistair, you aren_ _’t ready for this fight. You and Sol can barely stand and we faced one Revenant. I can_ _’t fight and protect you all and Morrigan and Leliana aren_ _’t strong enough. The Keeper will understand, please think about this, all of you. You need to rest for a few days. You and Sol are immune to the blood, bites and scratches but the others? Are you willing to risk your friends and companions?_ _”_

 _Alistair stood, a shake to his limbs belied his stone like expression. He swayed as he replaced his shield on his harness and sheathing his sword._ _” Tell me something Cullen. Why is it you aren_ _’t as tired as the rest of us why don_ _’t the werewolves attack you? I watched one rear back to attack you and then he moved away._ _”_

 _Solona and Wynne healed Leliana and Zevran_ _’s injuries. Sten and Morrigan sided with Cullen as neither saw the merit in attempting the quest without proper preparation and rest._

 _Solona reached for Alistair but he pulled away._ _“No. Do not avoid the question Cullen. What are you?_ _” Alistair gestured towards Cullen and Morrigan._ _“Your eyes and her eyes, neither of you are human. I don_ _’t want your help, Cullen, not when I cannot be sure you won_ _’t turn on us._ _”_

 _Solona grabbed Alistair_ _’s arm._ _“Alistair! Stop this!_ _”_

 _Sten stood firm._ _“We waste time. The Warden is a child. The Witcher will come with me and we will end this. The old woman will come too. The rest will stay here._ _”_

 _Alistair_ _’s face burned._ _“I am no child._ _”_

 _Sten did not turn away, he met Alistair_ _’s angered gaze._ _“Then why must you persist? The truth is before you. You are not ready and you need to rest. You complain. A child complains when he is not given what he desires. Therefore you, Warden, are a child._ _”_

 _Zevran rolled his neck and tested his wounded shoulder._ _“The logic is sound my friends, although I must disagree._ _”_

 _Alistair pointed and nodded at Zevran._ _“You see? Zevran has not given up._ _”_

 _The elf shook his head._ _“You misunderstand, dear Warden, I agree we must rest, I simply wish to disagree with the idea that you are a child. You clearly are no child although you are not listening to reason at the moment, so in the simplest of terms you are acting childish. Perhaps that is what Sten meant._ _”_

Cullen still wondered how he and Alistair ever found enough peace between them to find their friendship, despite their constant arguments during the Blight.  His memories cut short as the Dracolisk reared back and refused to continue up the dune towards the dragon’s nest.             

Cullen breached the top of the dune and crept before the Howler.  He would meet her eye to eye. His potions taken, Quen sign drawn he pulled his sword and wiped the draconid oil on the blade. It was the scent of the oil that woke her, her large pupil contracting to see the enemy standing before her. Cullen steadied himself as she huffed twice and with two words he dared death to find him.

“Let’s dance.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments appreciated!


	17. Severed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle with the Howler changes Yennelyn's path and Cullen struggles to hold on to the one thing he would sacrifice everything in order to save.

Bull and Blackwall hurried into the Howler’s lair first, followed by Varric and Dorian skidding to a stop to block Yennelyn from running ahead.

Cullen ran along the Howler’s back towards her tail. He hacked left and right as he ran. The Howler thrashed her head back and forth breathing fire erratically and trying to shake Cullen from her back.

“That is one pissed off dragon.” Varric quipped.

Dorian saw light tendrils of smoke from her burning flesh hiss through the cuts. “He used the draconid oil, be careful I don’t know what it may do to humans!”

The Howler, sensing the movement at her rear flipped her tail up. Yennelyn screamed. Cullen arched into the move soaring towards her raised flank as the Howler turned to catch him in her jaws. Cullen drew his second sword and used the force of his landing to drive his blades into her the searing pain evident by the roar and thrash of the dragon.

The Howler screeched and blasted fire in front of her as Cullen continued his assault. She stomped and tried to turn but her wings would not fold or flap. Bull stepped forward. “Cullen severed the tendons she can’t fly.” Bull sighed and addressed Yennelyn. “I know he’s yours, but fuck I am seriously aroused.”

Blackwall laughed. “Please; I’m not sure I’m ready to envision the two of you.”

The Qunari laughed. “Oh, trust me; I’m doing that right now." 

A glare and hiss from Dorian pulled Bull from his stupor. “Let us remember the lady stands right here and you should keep naughty thoughts to yourself when we are supposed to be _helping_ him and not _admiring the view_?” Yennelyn yanked her arm away from Dorian and stood apart from the others. He prepared to make his apologies when the sudden saturation of strong magic flooded his human senses.

Yennelyn’s breathing sped and deepened. Her anger rose as she stepped away from Dorian’s care. Her words inaudible at first repeated and grew louder with each iteration as she stepped closer to the battle. “You will not harm him, beast.”

The hairs on Blackwall’s arm rose as a static charge built in the surrounding air. “Maker’s balls! What is this?”  Blackwall reach out towards Varric and the static discharge between them staggered them backwards several steps.

Varric steadied himself and stowed Bianca _. Shit. It’s Kirkwall all over again._ “Dorian, stop her!”

Dorian turned to see a whirlwind surround Yennelyn. _This is no illusion._ “Yennelyn stop!”

She wheeled around and her violet eyes flashed and glowed silver in the moonlight. She turned from her companions and continued her march. Dorian stumbled back into Bull and Blackwall. “Kaffas! It’s true! Oh, Cullen. My friend, I’m so sorry." 

 _“_ _Your cheek is not appreciated Dorian. It appears I must teach you proper manners as well. Sit in the chair, not on it._ _”_ _Dorian_ _’_ _s feet rested on the cushion while he sat on the top of the chair, elbows resting on his thighs. Dorian and Cullen spoke at length over a report Cullen found in his nightly wanderings_ _–_ _both were disturbed. The task fell to Dorian to question the Magister._

 _He sighed.  “Magister, I must speak to you about a delicate matter._ _”_

 _Dorian_ _’_ _s work with the Witcher proved invaluable. Cullen_ _’_ _s progress was heralded by the Archon as a miracle and the hope to continue the program grew with each passing month. The Archon_ _’_ _s meeting with Cullen, although strained, solidified the Imperium_ _’_ _s desire to continue its efforts. The immediate plan for Cullen was to complete his training and prepare to serve the Archon as a guard for him and his daughter, Renae._

 _“_ _I am afraid that Cullen may have stumbled on information that puts the Imperium at risk._ _”_ _Dorian hoped his plan would not bite back. They_ _’_ _d talked through the night to find the most logical approach to an answer. Dorian steadied his nerves and sat in the chair as directed. He leaned forward as if to protect the careful words chosen by them both._

 _“_ _Magister, there was a discussion in Minrathous surrounding the unique birth of the Lady Renae, that she may not be. . ._ _”_ _Dorian paused. This discussion was unthinkable, insane. Cullen was sure, he saw the journal in Minrathous._

 _Alexius grinned._ _“_ _May not be. . .what?_ _”_ _The grin, narrowed eyes and smug aura of the Magister told Dorian the truth. Cullen_ _’_ _s information was true. He had to play along and hope Cullen listened nearby if the Magister sought to force Dorian_ _’_ _s silence. He melted into the chair, eyes wide._

 _“_ _How? Where did they find_ _–_ _and a Warden? Her mother agreed? I thought it a story, a cautionary tale of good and evil  - not a recipe for . . .a vessel?_ _”_ _He_ _’_ _d never felt fear. Dorian -  doted on by his mother, favored by his dalliances only his father treated him with disdain, but he was never afraid._ This is fear _, he thought.  His heart dropped, sweat formed on his hands and face._

 _Alexius stood and laughed as he moved around the desk. Dorian was trapped with no assurances Cullen hid nearby._ _“_ _You are such a gifted mage, my boy. We might consider using Cullen_ _’_ _s skills to discover more of our rivals. Think on this_ _–_ _you could surpass your father, hold much above him. We could serve the Archon and the Imperium._ _”_

Find the lie. Find the lie. _Dorian chanted the phrase like a prayer._ _“_ _Magister, I could do so much more for the glory of the Imperium if we could stabilize the time magic conundrum. Cullen is your success and we could do more for the Imperium._ _”_

 _Alexius stepped back, taken by the notion of success._ _“_ _Right, then work we shall. Bring me whatever documents Cullen retrieved in Minrathous._ _”_

 _His legs wobbled as he stood, but Dorian smiled to hide his concerns._ _“_ _None were removed, Magister. Cullen overheard the Archon_ _–_ _nothing more._ _”_ _He feared if Alexius knew the truth Cullen would never escape. The entire journal committed to memory, Cullen held every secret the Archon wished to keep from those around him._

 _“_ _Then we must plan for another visit, Dorian and instruct Cullen to find what we need._ _”_ _Alexius muttered to himself as he rounded his desk and sat down._ _“_ _Thank you, Dorian. You have been most helpful._ _”_

_Dorian willed his heart to beat and lungs to breathe. His legs, labored step by step made heavy with the revelations he could not reconcile and went in search of Cullen and he found him sitting on the wall of the courtyard engrossed in a large tome._

_Cullen looked up at the scuff of boots on stone and was shocked at his friend_  ' _s appearance. Dorian labored as he walked; dragging his legs as though they did not wish to move. The downturned eyes, the frown told him the news. Alexius confirmed their fears._

 _“_ _The journal Cullen, do you remember what it said?” Dorian asked._

 _Cullen found the journal in the mantle of the darkest night with Satina and Luna hidden from sight. The words Cullen read were incredible, for the Archon found the written rituals_ _–_ _darkness and despair, loathing and above all a desire to rule over all. The ritual was not simple, the pieces required were impossible to obtain and yet the journal in Cullen_ _’_ _s hands burned as he read it:_

_The Old Gods hunger for a home,_

_When the Old is shed through its death._

_A child of the taint shall be made,_

_From Man or Woman of Valor._

_A witch shall bear the Inheritor,_

_and Thedas will tremble in fear._

_“_ _Alexius is telling the truth or hoping we will or rather you will discover more information._ _”_ _Dorian offered._

 _“_ _This cannot be true, Dorian. It_ _’_ _s madness to risk a blight to create a vessel. The lives lost and we are to believe a Warden agreed to this?  Then Renae is not-”_ _Cullen could not finish the sentence._

 _Dorian leaned against the wall and pounded it with his fist._ _“_ _She is human, she carries-”_

 _Cullen gripped Dorian_ 's _shoulder._ _“_ _She_ ' _s an abomination. Maker_ 's _breath, I can't_ _. Dorian, she doesn_ ' _t know, how do you take your child and give them to the demons - to the darkness? I refuse to accept it. The Archon is mad. It is not possible._ _”_ _Hide armor stretched and tightened as Cullen reacted to his disbelief._ _“_ _There will come a time where I may have to kill an innocent to save Thedas, Dorian. Maker take me first if it comes to that."_

\--------

  
Dorian’s eyes stung from sand and tears as the wind increased around them. “Quickly, we don’t want to be here. She’s gone, don’t you see? Both of you go. I won’t leave him here alone.”

Bull drew his ax and shield. “Not a chance, if this is it, I’m ready.”

Blackwall followed and prepared for battle. “Agreed.”

Dorian spun back to see Yennelyn stretch out her right hand. A purple lash of electricity ensnared the dragon’s neck eliciting a howl borne of pain. Cullen’s head snapped to see Yennelyn standing near the Howler’s head. “Yen, what are you doing? Get back! Yen!”

She turned to face him. All sounds save the thrashing winds and biting sands reminded him he was awake. “Go Witcher, Ferelden’s forgotten son, the beast is mine.” She turned to the Howler and the echo of her voice tore through his flesh. “Make your final wish!” A second lash of violet fury punched through the dragon’s chest.

Cullen stood firm as the flesh of the beast sizzled and seared from the lash. Cullen’s ears cleared as he heard the shouts of his companions urging him to move, but he stood still. “She’s still there – my Yen.” Cullen felt the dragon slip away, its heart stopped, breathing followed and beast’s head fell to the ground. Cullen approached Yennelyn, his movements deliberate as he called to her. “Yennelyn?” He ventured closer. “Yen, look at me.” No response to his request.

Dorian grabbed Bull’s arm and squeezed. “Oh, please not here. Not like this.”

“Dorian, what is it?” Bull had never seen Dorian so worried. Blackwall caught Bull’s attention, but he shrugged in response.

Cullen advanced closer and closed his eyes. “Give her back to me . . . _Razikale_.”

 _Razikale. Mystery. Long hidden from the world, the Old God ruled over the hidden and the darkness. She opened the paths and hid them at her whim. The labyrinth: a sanctuary to those who seek her. Legends tell tales of her offer to the faithful if she is found; she will offer a single wish_ _and_ _the worthy shall prevail and all others will perish at her hands. Cullen read the words of the Archon, not her true father. A Warden, a party of mages sent to find Her resting place deep in the Anderfels. His researchers confirmed the power beneath the rock and in response the Archon sent a hunting party and his consort, Davina. He hid her away from the Magisterium, a Seer of her gifts would not survive if it was known. Davina found the sleeping beast, bewitched the Wardens and forced the ritual to its unnatural end – a daughter Renae, Tevene for ‘reborn’ would conquer Thedas for him._

She laughed, not Yennelyn’s musical laugh, she’d pulled him more than once from deep in his mind with the sounds of her joy. This was not her laugh - huskier, dangerous. “That’s twice, Witcher. Twice I’ve helped you. I helped _you_ , not her.” Yennelyn’s body moved closer to his. “What will you do for me? Shall I give you Dumat’s puppet? Is that a suitable gift for my Witcher? What of Ferelden, a word from you and I shall deliver all of Ferelden - my champion, my protector.” Yennelyn’s face contorted in anger. “Or are you to be my executioner?”  The body before him was Yennelyn’s, but she was gone.  “Tell me your desires, hide nothing from me and I will grant all you ask and more.  Make your final wish, Witcher.”

Cullen could end all of this; Corypheus, the rifts, the Breach with a single wish. Razikale would crush Corypheus and Thedas would be saved until she hungered for more. Cullen’s time wandering Thedas during the Blight and on to Kirkwall strengthened a singular belief in him; there is no end to the need for power. From Alexius to Meredith and Corypheus to Razikale before him now - none of the them would ever stop. This was his calling, his purpose. The Maker set him on this path to stand before the demons and the darkness and defy their hunger for power. Until this moment.

_Maker forgive me, I cannot let her go._

“I wish for one thing – Renae, my Yennelyn. Give her back to me. That is my wish. I will find Dumat’s puppet without you. I have no need of Ferelden.  My final wish if it takes my last breath - is to have her.”

Yennelyn’s face frowned. “You are a fool. I will not come to your aid again, Witcher.”

Cullen squared his shoulders. “I never asked for your help. You should have left us alone.” Cullen felt the air charge and drew the Quen sign as her charged lash found his neck. He felt pain, but his shield would hold for a few more seconds until . . . a sharp blast sent Yennelyn back, and she fell to the ground.

“You dare?” Yennelyn’s eyes flashed.

“You attacked, I didn’t.” Cullen kept his voice even a stark contrast to the desperation in his heartbeat and breathing from the fear he’d lost her forever.

She glared at him. “This is your last chance, Witcher.”

Cullen looked down at her hands. The Anchor glowed. _The Anchor_.  Cullen grabbed Yennelyn’s shoulders. “No it’s yours. The Anchor still glows. You can’t take this world if it in pieces, Razikale, you need Renae to heal it. The breach, the Anchor all of Thedas means nothing if it is broken. So give me my wish and return to your prison. Maker grant me strength to find the means to _defeat_ you when you wake. Let me remind you, it was _me_ and not the Wardens who killed Urthemiel and make no mistake I _will_ end you. I took the life of a god once before, what’s one more?”

Cullen felt Razikale’s control slip away and the Anchor’s glow intensified. _Fight, Yen_.

“I could destroy you with a word, Witcher.” She hissed but the voice, less sure, less strong was losing its hold.

Cullen tightened his grip and leaned in nose to nose. “Then do it.”

Yennelyn’s body slouched as Cullen’s wish was granted. Razikale slept. Mystery disappeared. “But for how long?” The Anchor crackled and flared. “I knew you could do it, love.” He whispered and gathered her close to his chest to join the others.

Cullen carried Yennelyn towards Bull and Blackwall and was surprised to find Dorian consoled by Bull. “Do we have a problem?” Cullen asked Bull with a smile.

Bull smiled. “You know how it is – sand everywhere, chafes something fierce. He’ll be fine.”

Cullen nodded. “Right. Sand.”  

Blackwall peered at Yennelyn. “Is she all right?”

“Yes, Warden,” Cullen replied, “She’ll be awake soon. We should gather everyone and prepare to leave for Skyhold.” Cullen adjusted the precious bundle in his arms and continued towards the dunes.

“Witcher! Ser Cullen, a moment. What in the Void was all that? Aren’t you going to explain?” Blackwall asked.

Cullen smiled and dipped his head towards Blackwall. “No.”

_________________________________

The Imperial Highway on horseback for Cullen presented no concerns. He’d traversed the lands of Thedas for years never calling one place home over another. As he was at this moment - this was home. Yen sitting before him, one arm around her waist her steady heartbeat and even breaths urging his own. She’d slept for hours until they’d made camp the previous night.

“Cullen?” Yennelyn’s voice, weaker than he remembered called from inside the tent.

He kneeled near her, brushing the hair from her face. “Rest, Yen. You need to rest.”

She grabbed his hand in hers. “When did we leave the Hissing Wastes?”

 _Yen doesn_ _’_ _t remember?_ “Do you remember what happened with the Howler?” Cullen asked.

She nodded. “You killed her. I watched you thrown towards her head and–“  A haze floated across her face, uncertainty and something more. “Cullen, where was I? Dorian held me back and . . . did we fight the Howler or watch you? I can’t remember details but I remember waking next to you.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Rest, we leave soon.” Cullen left her in her tent and wandered near the fire.

Dorian and Varric sat chittering away in hushed voices unaware as Cullen sat behind them. “Care to share?” He asked.

Dorian and Varric stopped mid-conversation and stared. Varric shrugged. “Let me say this Curly you, me and Hawke – the shit we saw; stone golems, darkspawn, Meredith and Orsino? That shit was nothing compared to what happened back there. I’m happy for you I think -im not sure, but what are you thinking? You don’t make deals Cullen, you don’t.” Varric shook his head and sighed. “Remember what happened with Alistair and Isabela? Shit I’m amazed you found us -  you took care of Maevaris, didn’t you?”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “ _You_ helped Maevaris Tilani?  Cullen there are far too many stories you owe me and now I understand why she sought the Inquisition.”

Cullen dismissed Dorian’s remarks. “That was some time ago, and this is not the time. Magister Tilani is a friend, yes.”

Varric excused himself but Cullen did not fail to hear Varric’s parting words to Dorian. “Your turn.”

Both men sat in silence, the fire speaking in place of them; wood groaning in agony as it diminished, the crackle of each lick of flame as it consumed the air and wood around it followed by a pop or zing as a wayward ember tried to escape the confines of its charred prison.

Dorian spoke first. “Run, my friend. She will be taken, jailed or worse.” The telltale stretch of hide and scrape of the frame of a buckle against the chape signaled the tension in Cullen’s hands. “I care too much to see you in pain, so go – to Alistair, to Celene or to Rivain. Find Hawke or your Qunari friends on Par Vollen. Take her and leave this place.” Dorian looked over his shoulder. “You cannot stay, even though I know you will.”

“Dorian.” Cullen started.

He swung his leg around the bench and straddled it not facing Cullen but not hidden from him either. “How could you Cullen? You made a deal, you – the incorruptible Witcher but at what price? Do you serve the creature within her? Who do we know that could tell us of the Old Gods?”

 _He still says_ _‘_ _we_ _’_ _, but I suspect he knows I will not involve him._ Cullen thought. “I plan to speak with Solas next, but I think we both know who may hold the answers.”

“The witch.” Dorian replied.

“Her name is Morrigan and despite our history, she may be Yen’s only chance. Morrigan wanted. . . well, let’s just say she hoped to spare Alistair and Solona through a ritual. I prevented it from happening and I’m not proud of how I stopped her, but she may know what is needed to free Yen. I’ll deal with the Old One on my own.” Cullen continued. “The Inquisition has to finish its tasks Dorian and once completed I will decide what will be done with Yen.”

The mage stood with such force the bench toppled over. “Did I hear you, Cullen? You’ll decide what will be _done_ with Yennelyn? Cullen, find a way do you understand?” Dorian’s hushed whispers did not lose their venom. “You saved your precious King and Queen, you can do the same for her. You had the power to end all this madness and instead you selfishly held onto a woman who is no longer the one you knew.” Cullen stood impassive spurring Dorian’s ire. “Do not play the stone faced creature, it will not work with me. What were you thinking Cullen?”

The lack of emotion or a single word from Cullen pulled at Dorian’s nerves -irked him, unsettled him. Cullen slipped from his harness and laid his swords aside. Practiced movements uncoupled the buckles holding his armor together and unlaced the braces at his side. Cullen shrugged out of his armor and gloves placing them next to him. “I wished for Yennelyn to give her more time, is it selfish to allow her to finish her tasks, seal the Breach and fulfill her role with the Inquisition? No. This is her path Dorian and I will see it done. Make no mistake if Razikale wakes and I cannot find a way to separate them I-”

Privacy forgotten, Dorian’s voice raised with his scorn. “It is always about you Cullen. If I were _you_ I would pray to your _Maker_ for a modicum of compassion or perhaps a heart. You have a human heart, you know, _Witcher_ , all that reliance on the creatures within you and you’ve _forgotten_ what is means to be human.” Dorian’s pinched brow and narrowed eyes stared at Cullen as he continued to rant. “Do not try to tell me you feel nothing, I know.” He pointed to his own chest. “I know. ‘Dorian, I have never asked you for _anything_ _’_ …remember you begged – _begged_ me to help you.”

“Dorian, circumstances have changed. If there is danger to others I-”

Slow, deliberate claps of Dorian’s hands in mocking stopped Cullen’s speech. “Bravo, my friend, bravo you are fooling no one with your indifference.  Do you think to debase our friendship with silly lies? Every step and scar is about her. Do you claim now you are immune to love? You and I both know that you will not die in your sleep Cullen, you will find a way to cheat _her_ death by giving your life.”

Shoulders released their rigid hold on his body and Cullen’s frame crumpled to his waist. “What would you have me do, Dorian? Run away or should we chain her up and allow her to venture out only to seal the rifts? I don’t know what the payment will be when the time comes, but I gave Yen a chance. When we return you will remove the magic between us and I will take Morrigan wherever necessary to free Yennelyn.” Cullen clasped his hands together. “If there is a way, I will find it.”

Dorian swiveled on the bench to face Cullen. “We are arguing the same point. What I fear is you will choose the Witcher over the lover and it is for the latter I will fight.” Dorian gently placed his hand on Cullen’s shoulder and gasped as Cullen swatted the support away with a flippant hand.

“Remember one thing in all your sanctimonious raving, I did not choose to be a witcher, it was forced upon me. You were a part of it – _you_ put me here and now you say to forget? If innocent lives are threatened, I must do what I fear most. Do what you must, but _anyone_ who stands in my way will pay.”

Cullen gathered his armor and harness left Dorian, mouth gaping at the ferocity of Cullen’s final words. Dorian tried to catch his breath and calm his heart and found his body rebel as he stumbled towards his tent.

Cullen’s rage diminished into annoyance as he ripped the tent flap to Yennelyn’s tent and tossed his equipment to the side. She stirred. “What’s wrong?” He cleared his mind and reached out to her. “Cullen…stop, not now.”

He forced a laugh and joined her on the bedroll. Simple movements, little words and within seconds she rested in his arms listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. “Nothing more than this, Yen. Stay with me.”

Her breath caught. She felt fear from him. “The contract. This is about the contract isn’t-”

A gentle squeeze, a glancing kiss, a deep exhale and his emotions faded. “Not going to happen.” He kissed the top of her head again. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

“Cullen?” He felt a shudder pass through her prompting him to gather her even closer.

“Hush. I’ve got you.” He said.

The motions she made with her head and arms struck him as though she were trying to burrow inside him. “I’m not me anymore and I’m terrified and if I am not me, then who am I?”

“You’re Yennelyn. My Yen. My hidden whisperer, my runaway princess and my love.” He exhaled. “There I said it again. Happy?”

“Said what?” She teased.

Cullen laughed. “Don’t start, it’s time to rest.”

She sighed. Minutes later she laughed.

“What now?” He asked.

“In your usual cryptic style you told me you loved me a few minutes ago.” She offered.

Cullen rubbed his face against hers. “That a problem? Sleep. You can discuss my cryptic speech another time.”

Her deep sigh chased away his remaining frustration. He did not sleep. The sound of her breathing, the murmur as she slept soothed him more than any meditation or rest ever could.

______________________________

Zevran held the note from Skyhold crushed in his hands. Alistair met with several nobles and the elf waited outside the receiving hall.  _I should go, I could lend assistance but the message was for Alistair._ The antechamber door opened and Solona stepped out shaking her head. She closed the door while staring at Zevran, his forced smile and shifting from foot to foot set her on alert.

“Where’s Cullen?” She said, thinking the worst.

“The child is safe, my friend, it is the man we must discuss.” Zevran handed the rumpled parchment to Solona.

“Templars and mages, strife and discord. Wait here.” She wrenched the door open again and Zevran leaned against the wall. _I must remember to reach to Solona the next time I require assistance. She is still formidable after all this time as I expected_. He thought.

He listened as Alistair’s voice grew louder as he approached the door. “What is so urgent that I couldn’t finish the discussion?” Alistair’s large frame, pushed along by Solona stumbled into the hall. “Sol, I can walk on my own.” He turned to see Zevran’s smiling face staring back at him. “What is so urgent?”

Solona closed the door with more force than she’d intended. “Who do we know in the Order?” She demanded of Alistair and handed him the note.

Alistair usual twinkle turned sour as he shoved the note into Zevran’s hands. “Get him out of there, Zev. This Rylen has been conducting military actions in Ferelden without so much as a ‘by your leave, Your Majesty’ and he threatens the one who has stood for Thedas when others would not.”

Solona interrupted. “Give me one hour. One message by flight and the others by messenger.”

Alistair read the determination on his wife’s face and laughed. “Someone’s in serious trouble.”

______________________________

Cullen withdrew into himself after Solas could not offer any hope to free Yennelyn from Razikale’s hold.

 _The Old Gods. . .are not known to me Ser Cullen, but I assure you I shall focus my efforts to discover any writings on the subject. If I had access to the journal or the original volume itself, perhaps. The Inquisitor is at peace and seems happy for the moment, I suggest to take advantage of this reprieve._ _”_

Cullen and Shade traveled ahead of the party, Cullen’s excuse had been to secure the route instead he took the time to consider all his options. Anders didn’t have the right knowledge and Wynne could have helped but she had been called to the Maker’s side. Leliana shared her story with him. Morrigan would be his last hope. If the Wardens, Templars or Seekers discovered Yennelyn’s secret she would not survive and he could not fight them all. The only other option was to deliver her to Vincentius. She would be safe from the various factions, but he would lose her. Vincentius must have plans in place to keep his daughter asleep, to hold her until he was ready, but he could not reconcile abandoning Yennelyn to her father.

Cullen entered the gates of Skyhold his head still occupied with plans and theories. Commander Rylen and several soldiers stood waiting for him as he dismounted and sent shade to the stables Rylen approached.

“You will accompany me, witcher.”  Rylen’s usual sneer was absent. “We have guests and your presence is required.”

“Sounds like I don’t have a choice. The guards are a nice touch, Commander. Tell me, where are we meeting these _guests_.” Cullen looked at the guards. “Lose the escort and I’ll follow you.”

Rylen waved off the escort and walked towards the main hall. “I’ve been tasked into investigating the similarities between Cullen Stanton Rutherford, a young Templar presumed dead and you. Would you care to tell me why you use the name of a dead Templar?”

“No.” Cullen’s curt reply elicited a sigh from Rylen.

Rylen stopped short and wheeled to face Cullen. “Do not challenge me when we reach the war room, witcher.”

Cullen held his tongue and waited for Rylen to resume his walk. Josephine waited at the War Room’s closed doors.

“Commander Rylen, I have been instructed to ask you to wait here with me.” Josephine wore a smile but Cullen knew she was not jovial in any way.

“Not a chance, Lady Ambassador, I plan to unmask this creature to prevent any further tarnish to the Order and the Inquisition.” Rylen spat his words and pushed the doors open.

King Alistair stood next to Leliana in front of the war table. “Commander Rylen, I suspect you know who I am and before you bow or grovel or ask to kiss my royal ass, you will explain why I had to travel here at the Queen’s insistence? Perhaps a letter you ignored, or the contracts with Orlais and Ferelden? I have here an order from the Empress of Orlais, it seems she is quite angry a certain Inquisition member threatened Ser Rutherford after she strictly forbid any harm to his person.”

Rylen did not reply.

“Let me continue before you find your tongue again. The Orlesian Empire and the Kingdom of Ferelden have called for your immediate resignation, turn in that - whatever it is you wear and report to Kirkwall.”

Rylen’s voice, firm but polite questioned the king. “The Order would never agree-”

Alistair’s smile faded. “The Order placed you in Kirkwall, perhaps you will learn manners there. You have one hour. There is an escort waiting at your office.”

Cullen stared at Alistair eyes searching for a reason for his presence so far from Denerim neither spoke until the slamming of doors confirmed Rylen’s departure into the main hall.

“Nice to see you again, old man.” Alistair smiled. “Love the new place, it’s very. . .drafty.”

Leliana laughed before she could catch herself and covered her smile. “Pompous ass. I should have turned down the Order in Haven.”

Shaking his head Cullen paced the room. “This is not the time to be without command Leliana,  we need him. The Arbor Wilds, remember? The Temple? Samson? You’ve lost your minds if you think this can be done without leadership.”

She walked to Cullen’s side. “We already have a replacement.” She laughed again and left the room.

Alistair nodded and grinned. “It’s Celene and Solona’s idea – _Commander_.”

Cullen held up his hands and shook them. “No. Alistair this is not the time; I have other matters that require-”

“Do shut up Cullen. They need you here. Finish this, do what you do best and then you can disappear into obscurity once again. Time to save the world – a second time.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy what you are reading, leave a quick comment and let me know!


	18. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen never asked to take over Command of the armies. He needs to plan their next campaign, but is led into one critical situation after another. As the days move towards their march, he realizes being a Witcher is far easier than being Commander Cullen.

_Ten years ago I saved Thedas from the Archdemon and today I still have to pay for my drinks. A few fabrications to elevate Solona in the people’s hearts gave Alistair the means to marry a mage. I shouldn’t dwell on it; I don’t want fame or the recognition. What I want is to disappear into the night with Yen and be left alone. Instead, I’m stuck in the War Room arguing over my sleeping arrangements._

Cullen refused to move into Rylen’s tower which complicated matters for Leliana and Josephine even though Leliana kept the news of Rylen’s dismissal quiet. Her scouts searched for Samson while Josephine worked her allies and contacts to prepare as much support as the Inquisition could gather.

“Find Hawke. She’s better suited to lead the army. I appreciate the confidence, but no one will follow me and we need the Inquisition to be focused, not scattered.”

Josephine glanced towards Leliana before she spoke. “I must disagree with you, Cullen. There is great admiration for your efforts and while some are perhaps intimidated by your . . . _profession_ , it is safe to say the army will follow you. It seems Varric’s tales of you have gained quite the following.” She smiled.

“Varric’s tales. I wasn’t aware Varric was in residence enough to tell stories.” Cullen knew where the explanation would lead and it was clear he needed to hunt down a dwarf.

“Fine. I’ll lead them to the Wilds, but I need to be with the others on missions and free to come and go. You need another to stand here and direct movements in my place; Leliana should work to find the Cadash twins. The last time I saw them was in Gwaren. Mika and Mirin work better apart, less arguments. Mika is better with tactics and details and Mirin is a better scout but both could be helpful.”

Leliana caught Cullen’s eye. “Mirin was at the Temple when it was destroyed. Mika was here months ago offering her services, but Rylen turned her away.”

 _Rylen. I will waste time fixing everything Rylen fucked up._ Cullen fought the urge to pound on the table. “Find her. Have your scouts deliver a message from me. She’ll come. Right now I need to see a dwarf about a thing.”

Leliana stepped towards him. “What’s the message? I thought you didn’t stay in contact with her?”

Cullen did not turn around. “It’s a simple message, she will understand. You were right - now get back to Skyhold and cover my ass.”

Josephine laughed. “We cannot ask our people to repeat that message. Surely there is something more appropriate.” The door closed before Josephine finished speaking. “We need to work on his manners.”

“Others have tried, Josie. I used to blame it on his Fereldan roots. Then all that time in Tevinter. The truth: it’s Cullen, you’ll get used to it.” Leliana said.    

_______________________

“How many more have fallen?” Cullen said and paced the long hallway as he gathered his thoughts. _Yen told me about Ahkaar and his men and now Mirin._ Cullen guessed Mirin probably wasn’t invited to the conclave, knowing the Cadash twins. A notable Carta family, the Cadash twins once tried to ambush Cullen, mistaking him an old man riding a horse.

 _Mirin tried to knock Cullen from his horse but was shocked to find himself in Cullen’s grasp. “You can let go, you know. I get it, you’re not an easy mark, put me down.” Cullen grumbled in reply. “Please put me down?” The dwarf asked_ _._

 _Cullen lowered Mirin to the grass and climbed out of his saddle. A female dwarf revealed her hiding place in the underbrush and joined them. She stared up at him_ _,_ _“You’re a big one, aren’t you?” Her eyes traveled up his body and Cullen noted the smirk on her face. He crossed his arms and stared waiting for her eyes to reach his. She gasped as her blue eyes met his yellow. “Mirin, you ass, you tried to unseat a Witcher.” She shook her head and looked down. “You’re him. Oh shit. The Lion as in Lady and the! I remember stories of you from the Blight. You traveled with the King, he kicked the crap out of the Carta in Orzammar and then you and the Champion got rid of those idiots in the Vimmark Mountains. I’m Mika, Mika Cadash and this is my brother Mirin, you’ve heard of us no doubt.”_

_Cullen turned back to Shade. “No. Be careful. Next time I won’t be so nice.”_

_Mika hurried to Shade’s side. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave us?”_

_Cullen adjusted the straps on Shade’s packs and climbed into the saddle. “That’s the idea. I’m not looking for traveling companions; I’m searching for someone.” Yennelyn had once again drugged his ale and ran off. He was searching for a missing elf and guessed Yen found the young girl first. She was headed towards Gwaren based on the last Innkeeper’s information._

_Mike touched Cullen’s boot. “Mirin is a tracker, one of the best and I can hold my own in a fight. You could use our help.”_

_“Not this time, but if you need help – real help, leave a message for S. Nightingale at any inn and it’ll find me.” Cullen and Shade left the two standing in the field and turned towards Gwaren._

Cullen and the twins met several times in the years before Kirkwall; more often whenever Mirin was in too deep to some backroom deal. Mika considered petitioning the Order, but no dwarf had ever been accepted. She was a surface dwarf and had no love of Orzammar. Their methods were often extreme but Mika’s charisma and strength overshadowed her brother’s quiet nature. She could work well coordinating movements, tactics and the endless reports.

They’d parted on less than perfect terms. Mika made it clear Cullen would have to admit he was wrong before the twins would work with him again.

_The Drunken Ox, a tavern near Treviso in Antiva provided the location for Cullen’s latest contract; he needed to meet two mercenaries after dark for a raid on smuggler’s ship. The mercs missed the meeting, forcing him to continue alone. The docks, devoid of any men, guards or lit torches troubled his approach._

What is going on here? _Cullen thought._ The ship is a merchant ship, no hidden hold, no additional storage. _He avoided the gang plank._ Too easy to be spotted. Cullen’s plan devised, he slipped into the water.

_The ship’s bow came to a point and was not used to store cargo. Instead it was used for spare sails, bandages, empty sacks and the like. The upper portion would support several berths and it was this lack of prized targets indicating to Cullen his point of entry . Cullen climbed up, over the railing and crouched to listen to the sounds in the hold until a muffled bickering grew familiar in voice and tone. “How did that poem start? Two souls, by blood shared. Anger grows, by neither spared.  Mika and Mirin, it has to be them.”_

_Cullen sat on the stairs to listen for the clomping footsteps of Mika, who always went first. The argument grew in volume and intensity until she reached the deck. “Hush! We’ll continue this later.” She stepped onto the darkened deck and wood groaned with each step._

_Cullen stood without effort and exhaled once. Mika froze. “Let me answer your questions_ _one by one.” Cullen started “Yes, you are in serious shit.” He stepped closer. “Yes, I am pissed off.” Cullen took a long step forward to meet her. “Yes_ _,_ _you have five minutes to explain before I haul both of your asses to the Templars in town.”_

_Mirin followed her on deck. “Ya’ see Cullen, here’s the thing-”_

_“Shut up, Mirin.” Mika pushed him backwards._

_Mirin balanced himself. “You shut up! Tell him about the slaves!”_

_“We didn’t find them Mirin, so we have a problem.” Mika quipped._

_Cullen rubbed his face. “Let me see if I understand. There are slaves on board but you found none so you helped yourselves to the cargo in payment?”_

_Mirin nodded. “I wouldn’t say it like that, but yes.”_

_Cullen’s vision caught the approaching torches quite a distance away. “Get out of here and never come back. If I am forced to search for you, the result will not be pleasant. You used me to steal and then stood there and lied about slaves. We’re done - as in don’t bother asking for my help again.”_

_Once the twins disembarked, a calm settled at the dock. The subdued slap of water against the hull and the chirp of unknown night creatures filled his ears. Cullen prepared to return to the inn until a stifled thump gave way to the sound of wood splintering. “There is someone below.” Cullen said and resolved to return to the hold. He should have enough time before the group he saw in the distance returned to their ship._

_He hurried below deck and followed the noise. Several men walked above towards his position and the heavy footsteps on the ladder told Cullen he’d have to fight. He readied his sword._

_Mika ducked her head below. “Wait, listen to that sound! We tried to tell you_ _,_ _Cullen. Mirin is setting up a few traps to buy time.”_

_He nodded and spoke to the wall. “If you can understand me knock once.” A single hit against the wooden wall answered his question. “Stand back, I’m breaking through the wall.” Another knock and feet shuffled. Cullen couldn’t use his swords or any weapon, the risk too great to those inside._

_Cullen and the twins found the elves hidden in the walls. He’d take them to the Chantry but forced Mika and Mirin to leave the cargo_ _,_ _igniting Mika’s anger._

_“One day, you will have to face the impossible and the only way I will ever help you is if you can admit you were wrong about us and beg me to cover your ass - until that day, Cullen, stay out of our way.”_

Cullen shook his head at Mirin’s loss. “Find Mika, please. I’m not cut out to lead and I’ve stayed too long.”

Leliana learned what happened in the Wastes and while Cullen would never ask for help, she planned to keep an eye on him. “Before you run off, there’s a small situation you _must_ fix.” She said.

“Not now. Whatever it is, it must wait.” Cullen continued down the hall.

Leliana raised her voice to him. “It’s Dorian. He’s leaving.”

__________________________

“Don’t hover, Cullen. I can hear you _breathing_ and it’s not pleasant.” Dorian quipped, his head still buried in a book. He looked up and sighed as he closed it. “I see by the look on your face, the Spymaster told you of my plan to return home.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. The Inquisition needs you.” Cullen said. “I need you. I can order you to stay. I still don’t know what the Commander of the armies is supposed to do.”

Dorian leaned in and whispered. “ _Commander_ Cullen. How wonderful for you. I’ll organize a banquet.”

Cullen shook his head. “Would it be possible for you to stop dipping every word in sarcasm and talk to me?”

“Why, Cullen? Could it be that my words are piercing through that thick skin of yours? Don’t look now, but you might actually be acting like a human.” Dorian frowned. “We should speak elsewhere; I don’t want to be interrupted by good intentions.”

Dorian descended the stairs and veered left.

Cullen shook his head. “Do we have to go to the tower?”

Dorian did not reply as he continued through a set of doors and out onto the center walkway. He stopped halfway and leaned forward on the side wall. “It’s your office now, Cullen.”

“No. I’ve asked Leliana to find a friend to take over for me so I may do what is necessary, but I will lead the soldiers to the Arbor Wilds.” Cullen waited for a response, when none came he continued. “It would be better for everyone if you stayed. Will you reconsider?”

“Is that your version of an apology? A piss poor one at that, Cullen. I understand what happened to you is unforgivable and nothing I can say or do to make amends will ever suffice. You were _cruel_ when you implied you would harm me if I interfered.” Cullen opened his mouth to speak. “No, you will listen to everything before you answer. I hope that with your help we can restore Tevinter.” Dorian waved his hands. “I know Tevinter is not your concern but Yennelyn is you will forgive my selfish need to see the Imperium as it should be.”

The courtyard below sat silent; the grounds were often filled with people but not today. Cullen tried to focus his eyes away from Dorian. “What if the choice to live is out of my hands? Will you help Yen?” He turned slightly towards Dorian. “Your own words ‘you know you won’t die in your sleep’. Dorian, if you leave – what then? Yennelyn will have the support of others here, but without you –I am uncertain she will be strong enough.”

Gripping the edge for support, Dorian tried to control the rising anger in his chest until the frustration boiled over and he sliced through the air with his hand. “You and Rylen - the both of you convinced her she is incapable and weak. She must find strength or the Magisterium will slice her into tiny pieces. You would serve her better now to leave her alone!”

“You’re right.” Cullen conceded to Dorian’s observations. He’d treated her as fragile and despite her memory loss and recent events he coddled Yen. “Yennelyn’s strength has waned because of me.” Cullen followed Dorian‘s hand as it rested atop his, a gesture meant to comfort.

“Yennelyn will find herself again; we need to find a way to silence the Old One. Talk to Morrigan, or I will if you suppose she might respond to me.” Dorian offered.

“I will talk with Morrigan, I owe her much.” He stopped and squared his shoulders. “I have a favor to ask – and before you answer, yes it is important.” Cullen’s reticence to speak and his refusal to look at Dorian made him wonder what troubled him so much that his usual boldness now failed him.

“Rylen was looking into Cullen’s – my. . . past.” The words were forced, pushed by will out of him. Dorian often wondered if Cullen would ever reconcile his two separate lives into one existence.  “Solona promised me she would not seek out my siblings, but it was she who told me my parents did not survive the Blight and she discovered the three live safe in South Reach. I have others who would help, but I trust you Dorian, to shield my family if anything. . .” Cullen’s voice faded, and he reached into a small leather pouch. “Take this, I want you to keep it for me, keep it safe.”

Cullen turned over Dorian’s hand and placed a warm metal object in his palm. Dorian peered at the object: a simple Fereldan coin, Andraste’s image on the side facing up, worn and dull. He clasped the coin tight in his fist and stared up at Cullen. “This was the coin I found on you, correct? It was not as worn then why give it to me? Surely in Alistair’s hands your family would be protected.”

“Cullen’s – my. . .brother. . .Branson gave it to me. . .before I left to train as a Templar.”

Dorian did not reply. Cullen’s slow speech and carefully chosen words underscored his internal struggle.

“When I . . . it’s all I have except a few faded recollections of games and laughter in the dark.” Cullen stopped.

Dorian tried to give the coin back, his earlier bravado diminished. “I can’t accept this. You’re giving away the last link to your family.”

He closed his hand around Dorian’s fist and smiled. “I’m giving it to the one person I can trust to safeguard it and them - _non effundatur sanguis meus, familia estis._ My friend, I can trust no one else _.”_

Dorian turned away. “Bastard.” He cleared his throat and spoke with his back turned, his voice waivered and filled with emotion. “Your Tevene has not improved in the slightest; you should fire your tutor. I would hope the lady to polish your pronunciation, but it appears attention to languages is not as high a priority for you both as _other_ pursuits.”   

“Dorian-”

“I am sure you have other pressing matters, _Commander_. I should like to be alone, but expect you at our usual table this evening.” Cullen knew better than to press Dorian and remembered his need to find a certain rogue who fancied himself a writer.

___________________________

The Main Hall at Skyhold was far too crowded, but Varric’s usual haunt near the large fireplace and table yielded Cullen’s next target - and a familiar face. Bianca Davri, smith and one half of what was widely considered one of the most powerful unions in the Merchant’s Guild stood next to Varric. She had married into the Vasca family and unfortunately for all concerned remained unable to separate from Varric in spite of death threats, assassination contracts and agreements to separate the two.

“Bianca, I seem to recall an agreement which prohibited the two of you being on the same land mass. There will come a time when even I won’t be able to ignore the bounty on Varric’s head. Take a lock of chest hair and go home, you two huddled together is a prelude to chaos.” Cullen’s smirk was met with Bianca’s own.

“So, Witcher, you finally grew a sense of humor. Don’t quit your day job.” She relaxed her posture and looked around the hall. “I need help, I’ve left messages at every inn from north to south and you didn’t appear – like you _promised_ I might add. So I came to find Varric and now here you are - the only logical question now is your place or mine?”

Varric grimaced. “Bianca, do you have to?”

Pushing Varric aside, she tried a menacing look.  The problem: staring straight up at six feet of Cullen was too much.  “I will need a new neck if I do this – Cullen, sit down so I can yell at you eye to eye.” Cullen looked over to Varric, eyes wide, and attempted to hide a smile. Varric shook his head and moved to the table behind Bianca.

“Before you yell, Bianca, I need five minutes to discuss something urgent.” Bianca nodded and sat back in her chair. Varric sat his hands flat on the table bracing for whatever happened next.

Bianca gasped as Cullen’s arm shot out and grabbed a hold of Varric’s wrist. “No more stories. No books, no papers, no mention or… no hands - are we clear?”

Varric’s forced a long exhale. “Can we go back to dragon bait instead?”

“No.” Cullen released Varric and gestured to Bianca he was ready for her discussion. “Your turn.”

Cullen’s ease unnerved her. “I don’t need to yell, it’s all right, but what I do need is help.  I’ve discovered a route used to smuggle red lyrium; I’ll need backup to investigate.” She stepped back as Cullen pushed his chair aside and stood. “Varric, keep this small Solas and Blackwall and the two of you. Let’s go.”

The two dwarves exchanged a glance and Bianca shook her head. “That was too easy, what’s the catch?”

“We find the route, secure it, and you leave – no arguments. Those are my terms. I help you and you return home. Decide now.”

A hush fell over the hall as Cullen strode through it towards Yennelyn’s quarters. _There is nothing like being on display_ he thought.  Cullen resisted the sudden urge to scare those staring at his back and entered Yennelyn’s quarters.

The shuffle of papers and a huff of air as Yennelyn pushed the hair from her face and groaned told him Yennelyn tried to review paperwork and thought it prudent to interrupt her before she blasted the pile with her magic. Cullen waited out of sight and closed his eyes to find her.

_A deep inhale, her scent a part of him, he moves a strand of hair away from her face and traces around her ear –_

“Cullen! Stop that.” She cried out from deeper in her office.

He laughed as he climbed the last few stairs seeking a few hours of silence in her presence.

______________________

Bianca’s reluctance to leave the Inquisition met with Cullen’s aggravation. He’d given her the choice to leave with an escort or be carried to her ship. She wisely chose the escort to Jader.

Sealing the smuggling route proved easier than expected, giving Cullen more time to prepare for the march to the Arbor Wilds. Mika Cadash was delayed in her travels and once she arrived, the Inquisition would depart.

Cullen reviewed his plans alone in the last area of the prison cells. He preferred the sound of the waterfall to all those gathered throughout Skyhold. Cullen searched his memories of books and legends to find another solution to Yennelyn’s passenger. There were only two known ways to remove a spirit, and both led to the host’s death and Cullen would have to find a third option. He did not turn when the door groaned as it opened, wood warped from the moisture of the open space.

Cullen’s senses told him Blackwall waited; heavy breaths and rapid heartbeat from a man he knew as dedicated and strong-willed. Cullen turned his head to see his visitor. Blackwall stood, arms clasped behind his back. He noted Blackwall’s eyes did not meet his, dark and unfocused.

“I. . .respect you, Cullen.” Blackwall started. Cullen read the careful internal process on Blackwall’s face. He wanted to choose the right words, and it fell to Cullen to take the lead in this conversation.

“Warden, speak free here, we are not watched.” Cullen offered.

“We both know the truth, Witcher.” Blackwall said. He would not meet Cullen’s eyes and stared out at the crumbling walls and rushing water before him. “How long have you known?”

Cullen’s sensitivity to the darkspawn blood within a Warden was not widely known and he guessed Blackwall or whoever he was never discovered the flaw in his plan. “Since we met. It was not my place to question why you called yourself a Warden. I’ve known several and you are no different in dedication and deed.”

Blackwall turned away. “You’re wrong. I’ve put the Inquisition at risk. I need - I would ask for your help. I can tell you struggle with demons of your own and I would not expect any man to put his own problems aside for me.”

“Tell me everything.”  Cullen leaned against the stone walls and listened.

______________________________

The next days sent the Inquisition into frenzy. Cullen delivered Blackwall or Thom Rainier, his proper name, to the authorities in Orlais only to assume responsibility for his life. His sentence for past crimes commuted for service to the Inquisition and to the Wardens with one caveat: if Rainier ran, his life was forfeit to Cullen. Blackwall understood the terms; Cullen could not ignore or disregard the contract and it was this understanding of unavoidable death versus an honorable life that compelled Rainier to be worthy of the name he assumed. Yennelyn was grateful to keep Blackwall in the Inquisition, but cautioned him never to test Cullen’s commitment. The three met in her quarters to discuss final judgement.

“Inquisitor, I won’t fail you or the Inquisition.” Blackwall wondered if Cullen would speak. He found it disturbing Cullen leaned against the wall in silence. “I disappointed you.”

Yennelyn held Blackwall’s eyes. “There are men who excuse their actions for power, corruption and conquest. You faced your offences, and in doing so earned my admiration.”

“My lady, I don’t know what to say.”

She smiled as hide creaked and chain main shifted and settled – Cullen stirred and spoke. “Lesson one: you don’t have to say anything, nod and smile. Lesson two is more important: be the Warden I believe you already are, not who you think you should be.”

Blackwall agreed. “Is there a lesson three?”

“Everyone gets one free pass with me. Do not waste yours.”  He winked at Yen. Blackwall departed leaving the two alone. Cullen hoped for a reprieve and rest. His tasks as a Witcher were far easier than his short time as Commander.

The sound of light footfalls on steps, giggles and gleeful exclamations forced a memory to climb free of its hiding place. The voice so familiar and filled with joy caught him off guard.

“Umm, hello. . .Inquisitor? It’s Dagna. Is he gone, did I miss him again?” The voice called from the stairs. “Hold him for me, I’ll be right there!”

 _Dagna_. He remembered hearing her name around Skyhold, but did not seek her out. He’d taken her to the Circle Tower instead of following the party into Orzammar. She was young then and so eager to learn magic. He lost count halfway to the Tower of the questions she could ask in succession.

_“May I ask a question?” Dagna asked._

_Cullen held back a laugh. “As opposed to the several hundred you’ve asked so far?” Dagna talked without a break from the moment they stepped out into the sunlight from Orzammar’s gates._

_She giggled and continued. “So, you seem almost human.”_

_“Thanks, I think.” Cullen replied._

_Dagna sat in front of him on Shade and hung her head. “No, that’s not what I meant. Everything I have ever read says that your people are ruthless and not really human; you are, which I find really interesting and I wonder what it’s like to be able to do all these amazing things and still be a human?”_

_Cullen smiled. “Do you want to hear a secret?”_

_“Oh yes, please!” Dagna tried to turn around but Cullen gently turned her back._

_“Sometimes, it is amazing and other times more than a little scary.” Cullen offered._

_“I can’t imagine. I mean, I could, but it wouldn’t be the same as living it and_ _,_ _trust me_ _,_ _my imagination is a really scary place sometimes but it must be . . . incredible.” Dagna’s wistful sigh disturbed him._

_“Dagna, be careful who you trust, use your intellect and your logic to face the unknown.” Cullen warned._

She huffed up the last steps and her exertion gave way to excitement. “Cullen!” She hurried towards him and then stopped short. “Would it, I mean is it - do you mind if?”

Yennelyn covered her smile and nodded. She marveled at the change in Cullen at Dagna’s appearance. He knelt and opened his arms. “Come on.”  She squealed and hugged him tight. He remembered this at the Tower. Dagna, so excited to be accepted by Irving after Cullen pleaded for her and so moved that he would stand up for her – a dwarf in front of mages and Templars alike she’d squealed in joy back then.

Dagna pushed Cullen away. “You promised to visit and never did. Some guardian you turned out to be. Although having the entire tower think I was your ward – that was genius! No one teased me, no one questioned me. The others thought I must be some kind of special to have a Witcher as a guardian. It was so great!”

Shocked at the news, Yennelyn stammered. “Your ward? Dagna is your ward - Cullen why didn’t you tell me?”  Cullen looked to Yen, he would explain another time. The Circle did not want to take Dagna in for study when they first arrived and every excuse was thrown, including Dagna’s lack of a guardian. She was nineteen at the time and although her cheerful disposition and tendencies to chatter on made her seem much younger, Cullen made it clear she was his responsibility and should be regarded as his ward.  Even after the long absence, he was happy to see her.

Dagna laughed, her face red with a mix of embarrassment, pride and excitement she shook her head to get control. “I did it though, just like you said, Cullen. I showed them all what I could do.”  She continued. “I must have missed you, I haven’t stopped to breathe!”

Cullen moved to a chair. “I’ve missed you too, Dagna.”

Dagna turned to Yennelyn. “Did you see that? Few humans do that, Cullen always did -  a subtle move, a slouch or a chair. He never towered over me.” She shrugged. “But I’m not here for a reunion. I mean, we just had one, but not a real one and I have _new_ _toys_.” She rubbed her hands together. “So, ready to see your new gear?”

Dagna’s enthusiasm permeated the entire room, but Yennelyn was expected elsewhere. “You should go, Cullen; this is all part of the joys of being the Commander and I am expected in the sparring ring.” Solas and Dorian took turns working with Yennelyn to adapt to the evolution of her magic with the Anchor.

Cullen allowed Dagna to take the stairs first. “I heard you were named the new Commander. It makes sense if you ask me.” Dagna’s non-stop conversation carried them into the Undercroft.

_______________________

Dragon scales. She’d crafted his new armor from the Howler; every piece, from the under tunic to the gloves made from the beast. She’d dyed the dragon webbing a vibrant indigo, the deep color her favorite for him.  “These materials were delivered not long after your return. I’d never worked with scales and webbing from a high dragon before. Dorian helped me with the runic work, the Tevinter runes are really fascinating, he promised to get more books for me to study.”

Cullen marveled at its lightweight feel and the muffled creak of dragon hide as he flexed his hands.

“She sings, doesn’t she?” Dagna’s question fell out in a sigh.

Cullen bumped her in jest. “Not anymore she doesn’t.”

Dagna rolled her eyes. “You know, you still can’t tell a joke. If you like the armor, you will _love_ the swords . Harritt worked to get the star metal, and the smiths could make both swords _and_ add the silver as Dorian’s notes dictated.”

Cullen flipped the sword in his hand to find it balanced, lightweight and beveled. “The edge is beveled?”

Harritt stepped into the conversation. “You won’t find a better edge; angled to meet at the cutting edge – less fragile than a straight edge. Those Templars and their straight edges, won’t listen at all. You’ve got the best, stronger than a straight and clean cut no matter the strike.” Harritt beamed. “Me and the lady here designed a new harness, it’s less flexible than the one you wear but it’ll protect the new blades well.”

The hilt, crafted for his large hands rolled and twirled in his grasp with ease. “Nice. You spoil me.”

Dagna giggled. “Oh trust me, you’ll earn it. We have ideas for a crossbow and those little knives you have hidden everywhere but we’ll need you to test them.”

“Whatever you need, just ask.” He continued to twist and twirl the sword around him. “This is impressive work, thank you both. I’ll return for the rest.” Cullen said as he returned to the Main Hall.

_____________________________

Cullen stood at the entrance to the garden and watched Morrigan stroll towards the gazebo. _Come on, you’ve stared down dragons, an Archdemon, Corypheus and an Old God in the past ten years. Morrigan is not that bad. Maybe if I repeat that a few times, I’ll believe it._ He thought. “Then again you stabbed and shoved her through an eluvian.” He murmured.

Razikale’s appearance pushed him to engage Morrigan even though the mutual avoidance had worked thus far. His interference in her plot to conceive a child with Alistair on the eve of battle was the first step to their separation. His disappearance immediately after the battle compounded his betrayal, and he believed his actions as they stood before the eluvian carved an irreparable rift between them.

Cullen’s cautious steps towards the gazebo did not draw her attention and Morrigan did not acknowledge him as he sat opposite her. Neither spoke. Cullen replayed every conversation from all those years ago and in those recollections he searched for misleading words or promises made and found none; he could not find a trace of deceit in his words or a reason for Morrigan’s bitter disposition.

“I know why you have come.” Morrigan’s usual spitefulness traded for gentle words. “I speak true when I say I do not know how to free the Lady and I swear if I did I would share it.” She did not raise her head but continued. “Mother’s grimoire did not reveal the answer. You may search yourself. The book lies within a chest -  through the door behind you. ‘Tis yours.”

“Morrigan I have no reason to doubt your words, but I appreciate your offer; I admit to certain _curiosities_ where your mother is concerned.” Cullen said.

The confusion on her face gave way to understanding. “You never hunted her, did you?”

Cullen shook his head. “Do you remember the eluvian? Your wound was superficial, I hoped you would understand – I fulfilled the contract and wished you well. I left the artifact whole and did not report nor remove it.”

His admission moved her. “I am a fool. I have spent years searching for the reason you did not follow me. I hid in the Crossroads of Time and watched for you to follow: hours, days, weeks and still nothing. I thought . . . ‘twas my pride, Cullen. You did not wish me to perish, you gave me my life, and I wasted the gift.” Morrigan swiped a tear away as it bit her cheek. “On my life, I do not know how to save her but I will do whatever you ask of me.”

He stood and offered his hand to her. Morrigan pulled back and folded her hands away from him. “Do not take my soft words as a request for company.”

Cullen laughed. “Morrigan, it’s a gesture of politeness. Not an invitation.”

Embarrassed, her usual embittered tone returned. “So much for Fereldan manners.”  Morrigan yelped as Cullen pulled her into a hug. “Let me go. Cullen, you let me go.” He chuckled and released her.

“You are incorrigible! I offer my help and you tease mercilessly. Begone! Ill-mannered beast.” Morrigan huffed.

A woman coughed to draw attention to herself. Leliana stood arms crossed taking in the scene before her. “A happy little family once again I hope. If the two of you are quite finished, we have a slight problem.”

“This will upset me, I can tell.” Cullen said. “Fine. What is the slight problem?”

Leliana enjoyed whatever secret she held, her smirk and the saunter as she walked told him she took pleasure in whatever bad news was to come. “Mika Cadash arrived a short time ago.”

“Good. What’s the problem?” Cullen asked.

“A simple misunderstanding, she is not as angry with you as you suspected.” Leliana continued. “Cassandra greeted her along with the Inquisitor and Dorian.  Mika has all three at bay with a pike demanding your release.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Your input helps keep the story going.


	19. Ripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's first mission as Commander of the Inquisition's armies looms before him and yet the same concerns plague his thoughts. Is Yennelyn's passenger truly asleep and what happens if She wakes? He will test her and himself to guarantee a victory for the Inquisition.

_The charred remains of Corypheus sag into a smoldering pile of ash._

_Yennelyn and Morrigan examine the damage around the temple entryway; amidst bodies strewn on the walkway that do not stir. Yennelyn searches for survivors of the blast but fears none of the temple’s guardians survived._

_“Be careful.” Cullen is agitated by a thrum of magic resonating near him and reaches out with his senses to find the source.  A Warden sinks to his knees pulling Cullen’s attention to the fallen man. The Warden writhes and twists until his spine snaps back and dark gelatinous matter spews from every orifice. Cullen’s gaze fixes on the Warden’s body contorting unnaturally._

_A figure takes shape in the nebulous form rising from the fallen Warden.  A long arm with talon-like fingers bursts through the amorphous mass; fierce red orbs burn where eyes should rest as a head lifts. A leg congeals from the ooze and pushes the still forming body as another claw tipped hand and arm breaks free. Cullen readies his sword and barks out a command._

_“Go! Go now!” Cullen yells out keeping his eyes locked on the emerging form. He hears the shuffle of feet and the air rush past him as the group takes flight across the passageway._

_Dorian and Morrigan grab Yennelyn and run with the others towards the temple doors but Cullen is unaware of the struggle to push the Temple doors shut. The Lyrium Dragon dives towards him but ignores Cullen to strike the closing doors with an energy blast. Cullen cannot hear her scream his name as the doors seal leaving him trapped._

**Three months’ prior**

Cullen and Leliana ran to the courtyard to see a female dwarf lunging with a pike towards Cassandra and Dorian both pushing Yennelyn behind them. He fought the urge to knock the warrior to the ground. Cullen’s long strides quickened as he reached Mika’s position in time as she swung the pike and grabbed it mid-swing to wrench it from her grasp. 

A quick wink to Yennelyn and Cullen’s stone faced annoyance startled Mika Cadash. “Oh shit. You’re not a prisoner are you? Before you get really pissed, the message said to cover your escape, and that’s why I’m here.” Mika looked around and her eyes settled on Yennelyn. “Well, I’ll be a slow-cooked nug, the Lady is here, too.” Mika’s head dipped. “I’m so sorry Lady Yen, I didn’t realize that was you. ”    

Cullen rolled his eyes and glared. “Mika, please stop talking. You’re here to watch over Skyhold and troops in various locations while I’m gone; although given your display here my judgement is now in question.”

Mika curtsied awkwardly in her armor. “Begging the Lady’s pardon, Mirin was the better of us, more polished. I can put a team together and tell them what to do. Tell me what you want done where you need to travel and that I can do. But fancy speeches and proper forks that was Mirin.”

Yennelyn extricated herself from her human shield and met Mika. “I’m sorry for the loss of your brother, and I appreciate your readiness to save Cullen.” Yennelyn looked up at Cullen and then returned her eyes to Mika. “What I need is your dedication to see to the survival of those in service to the Inquisition. Will you help me?”

Mika did not speak at first. Cullen tapped the back of her boot with his. “Yes, my lady.” Mika said and continued her discussion with Cassandra joining them at Yennelyn’s request. A silent conversation took place around the other.

Leliana grabbed Cullen’s attention and a slight inclination of her head meant only for his eyes explained she would return to her office and wait for him if he required her help. Dorian turned to catch Cullen’s attention eyes wide in question – an appeal for information. Dorian did not miss Cullen’s entrance and expected news from his discussion with Morrigan. Cullen walked towards the main hall unhurried and without acknowledgement. His destination: Solas’ rotunda.

The elf worked and rested within, never quite joining the others. Cullen understood this wish for solitude; he often tried to find places to slip away unnoticed. When he’d first arrived at the mountain fortress, Skyhold possessed a serenity he’d been missing for too long. Cullen had been able to do little to stop the carnage in Kirkwall and the futility of his actions in Haven still troubled him; his contemplation had led to scrutiny of every decision and action leading back to the Blight and he had wondered if his interference helped or harmed its people.  

Now, the spaces once his alone disappeared to the ever increasing souls that flocked to Skyhold and despite the open spaces and hidden alcoves, the walls of Skyhold constricted around him.

Cullen entered the rotunda to see Solas climbing down from the scaffold.  The elf nodded in silence. Solas worked on an impressive undertaking in art; a fresco of massive proportions illustrating the history of the Inquisition: the Breach, Haven and the assassination attempt on Celene. Cullen noted new images: a Warden’s shield, the insignia of a griffon in brilliant blue hues and a dark fortress in a panel next to the depiction of Celene and the Winter Palace.  

“Is that Adamant?” Cullen asked. The dark fortress sat atop rocky terrain depicting the Western Approach and to its right, the black city resting at the center of a series of circles above ethereal dark peaks.

“Yes, and the Fade. I hoped to finish before we departed, but I will have to continue another time.” Solas wiped his hands and discarded the paint stained rag on the scaffold. “I suspect you did not seek me out to check on my progress, Cullen.”

“Does the Old One sleep?” Cullen asked.

“To the point, I see.” Solas turned away and returned to his desk. “I cannot say for sure, I am afraid the nature of the Old Gods is not within my knowledge.” Solas faced Cullen and continued.  “Perhaps Dorian might offer more or discover more research materials and then we might find-”

Cullen raised his hand to stop Solas, his patience worn and thoughts raw. “Thank you. You still have time to work.” He gestured towards the frescos but his sagging posture and soft tone seemed to disturb Solas.

“I observed one thing as we have traveled. The other appeared when the Inquisitor’s anger is pushed too far. Might I suggest you test the theory? Anger her.” Solas offered.

“Nothing is ever as simple as is sounds, Solas.” Cullen knew how to goad Yen into anger, but to antagonize her to the point of fury and wrath would not be easy even though their history was interlaced with such events.

**_Northern Thedas 9:33 Dragon_ **

_Dorian did not follow them; the fact he’d needed to leave his friend left a remnant of irritation in Cullen’s head. He’d never intended to trade his friendship for Yennelyn, but she had seemed happier, calm and relaxed without Dorian in their company._

_Their destination: Ostwick, Yennelyn’s ‘family’ home. The Trevelyan family had taken in the eighteen-year-old at the urging of an unknown influence. Yennelyn had adopted the Trevelyan family name and had left for the Circle in Ostwick._

_Cullen often tuned out her stories of her time in Ostwick; the constant need for her to talk was new to him. His time in Tevinter was silent with only Dorian’s lessons and chess games and the occasional lecture from Acasius on Cullen’s shortfalls as a proper Witcher. Meditation through her chatter and intimacy they shared was enough for him. What Yennelyn never understood - her incessant talking dulled his senses until it pushed him to anger._

_“Yen, I need to focus. Please stop talking.” Cullen worried he’d been too harsh. “Forgive me. I’m attempting to search the area and you are distracting me.”_

_Yennelyn pursed her lips. “Cullen, there is nothing here, until we get to Ostwick the most we’ll see on a bad day is a wolf.” She stopped her horse and continued, anger and sarcasm lacing her words. “I apologize if my blathering interrupted the great Witcher from his duties. By all means, be sure the rabbits and deer do not attack us. Whatever shall I do?”_

_Cullen did not reply. He’d traveled enough with Yennelyn to be wary of her moods and especially her anger. Her preferred target no longer traveled with them and leaving her alone was often the best response._

_“Aren’t you going to answer me, Cullen?” Yennelyn asked._

_“No.” Cullen urged Shade to pick up his pace and pulled ahead.  The first bolt of magic hit him in the center of his back._

___________

Cullen’s memory of their first argument while unpleasant, presented an opportunity. “I may need time in the infirmary if this turns sour and if our uninvited guest appears, what then?”

Solas smiled. “Let’s call it testing a theory. I am of the belief we will not see the face of the Old God again.” Solas nodded once and continued. “Since you will put yourself at risk to test my theory, I should mention I am fairly certain nothing will come of it.”

“There are two different conversations taking place here, Solas. I don’t recall agreeing to anything – yet.” Cullen said.

The elf’s smile returned. “As our conversation continues you have agreed.” The soft chuckle and shake of Cullen’s head confirmed Solas’ speculations. “Another question before I send you to your doom. I find it most curious – the differences in conversation, Cullen. I hear you speak with others: Hawke, Varric, Blackwall and Bull in a very blunt speech; yet conversations with Dorian and myself you are more than capable of carrying on deep discussions of many subjects. So I must ask, which is the real Cullen?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Cullen said as he tried not to smile. “What was that about sending me to my doom?”

The door to Solas’ rotunda burst open and Varric hurried into the room. “So, you’re going to torment the Princess - I’m in.” Varric said.

“Varric, you know it is rude to listen in on private conversation, yes?” Solas asked.

“Chuckles, I excel at listening to private conversations. To answer your question about Cullen here, we all know he’s not all muscles and looks as he pretends to be, after a while you wait for the times he forgets and talks in full sentences instead of grunts and threats.” Varric laughed and continued towards the walkway door. “So – Princess. Doom and a little afternoon fun?”

Cullen clapped his hand on Varric’s back. “Two words come to mind, Varric. Care to guess?”

Varric scratched his head. “Shut up, Varric?”

Solas shook his head. “That’s three.”

“I know it's three.” Varric paused and looked at Cullen. “Oh. Dragon bait.”

Cullen waived and headed towards the walkway door. “Good guess.”

______________________

“Enough magic practice.” Cullen tossed a shield at Yennelyn’s feet and walked away. “Take up the shield, Inquisitor.”

Cassandra’s gasp and sudden stiffness at Cullen’s harsh words was quickly pushed aside as she confronted him. “What is the meaning of this Cullen?”

Cullen wheeled around to face Cassandra and Dorian. “Lady Cassandra, you brought me to the Inquisition to help. I’d advise you stay out of my way.” Dorian’s sharp intake of break and raised brows revealed his disbelief of Cullen’s actions.

Yennelyn‘s smile and crossed arms quickly fell as Cullen raised his voice. “Pick it up!” He held out his hand to Dorian. “A staff, Dorian.”

“You might consider manners, Cullen. Perhaps a few moments to discuss what ails you?” Dorian’s tone was sincere, he assumed the display of rage was genuine.

Cullen bellowed again at Dorian. When he did not move, Bull called to Cullen.

“Cullen, here!” Bull tossed the wooden practice staff into Cullen’s waiting hand, the slightest nod from Bull and Blackwall told him they supported his plan. Both had spoken in private about the strange change in Yennelyn in the Wastes and both were wary of the Inquisitor.

 _I need to know if Razikale sleeps_ , he thought. _Forgive me, there is no other way._ “You’ve grown weak, Yen. You rely on others far too much.” Cullen circled around her, taunted her, and pushed her to react.

“Cullen, I don’t understand?” Yennelyn’s eyes teared. She did not move and looked to the others for help.

 “You’ve grown soft. You aren’t my Yen.” Cullen’s words cut deep. He tried not to react to the gasp of breath and shaky exhale.

“Look at you, Yen. You won’t even defend yourself. I can’t take you into the Wilds. You risk every life that follows you. _Morrigan_ will travel with me.” He dropped the staff and met her eyes. Cullen hadn’t counted on the other emotion Yen never dealt with well – jealousy.

Her expression soured, and a snarl overtook her sadness. “Morrigan?” Yennelyn spat. “Is that what this pathetic display in front of everyone is about, Cullen? Morrigan?”

Cullen held firm and sighed. “Not this tired argument again, Yennelyn. Before you spew that infamous venom _Lady Trevelyan_ , let’s review. Which of us ran to the nearest _Templar_ for love and affection?”

 “Void take you Cullen!” The first barrage of lightning magic was unfocused and his Quen sign blocked most of the pain. He stepped closer to her and drew the Aard sign knowing his range was too far away from her - she stumbled backwards.

When Yennelyn’s head rose to meet his eyes her anger ignited a focused ring of fire beneath his feet. Cullen rolled to his right as it flared and picked up the staff as he stood. Cullen circled to her left.

“Your words hurt and I suspect you knew they would. If it is my former self you prefer Cullen, then here is her answer!” Yennelyn primed a spell Cullen had never seen. He knew the force behind it as his medallion thrummed against his chest.

Dorian’s voice carried through the courtyard. “Yennelyn, don’t use the cage! He has no armor; Yennelyn you must stop!” Dorian’s warning sunk in when the instant barrier Dorian’s raised around Cullen as a large orb of pulsing energy appeared above Cullen’s head. He drew the Quen sign by instinct alone. As the first wave of shocks dropped him to his knees, and as a second energy pulse passed through the air, Cullen tried to locate its source. The pulse negated the orb above him, his shield and the barrier Dorian placed around him.

Cullen experienced the strength of the dissolution of all magic and his eyes followed Solas as his unassuming steps brought him between the two combatants.

The field of magic cleared, Solas spoke. “Forgive my interference, but this must end before you are permanently injured, Ser Cullen.” Solas continued. “It appears my theory was correct. Your method to draw out the other, while effective, was perhaps more than required. The lady is as she should be.”

Struggling to stand, Bull and Blackwall pushed through the growing crowd to help Cullen. He shrugged out of the grip of hands on his arms. “No, I’m fine.”

Yennelyn, still incensed, shoved Blackwall aside to face Cullen. “What did you assume I would do Cullen? Take flight or burn Skyhold to the ground? How do you dare?” Yennelyn saw the scorch marks on his tunic and her hardened expression softened. “I injured you. See you rest.” She wheeled around and stalked away.

______________________________

The Inquisition soldiers marched towards the Arbor Wilds under the lead of several captains and Templars in the ranks. Cullen would escort Josephine, Morrigan and Leliana after sundown; the Inquisitor and her companions would leave at first light the following day.  He stood alone on the ramparts talking to himself. “Quite the morning. I wonder who else I can piss off before I leave.”

Yennelyn approached. He knew the disappointment she carried - it greeted him before she spoke. The hesitation as she attempted to talk, the flutter in her chest told him she wanted to be comforted or convinced that he still cared.  “You’re afraid of what I am. Your word. Abomination.” She said. “You’re consumed with what you may have to do.”

Cullen tried to push the denial through his lips or to reassure her and could not. He inhaled several times and found no words. He turned to face her, arms crossed.

Yennelyn continued. “Solas spoke with me and Dorian filled in more missing information. Cullen, what happened to purpose before pride? What happened to standing between the demons and the innocent?”

Cullen stared at her. “Do you have to ask?” In a single fluid motion, he shifted to meet her and held her face in his hands. His eyes searched hers before he continued. “I did what I had to, Yen.”

“No, Cullen.  If She wakes, do what you must.” Yennelyn reached up to caress his face. “Promise me, Cullen.”

Cullen took her hand away and held on, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “I can’t make any promises.”

Her earlier gentleness fell away to reveal a cold stare. “Then I will find another who can. I’ve kept you long enough, Commander. Safe travel.” Yennelyn left him staring after her.

This was Yennelyn. Manipulative. Cruel. She dwelled in this new existence she’d assumed within the Inquisition.  He knew her. She would simper and whine to Dorian, Bull or even Blackwall but would fail in creating a champion to defend her.

Cullen drew the Yrden sign. The slight jolt and disorientation did not impact her reaction. She snapped her head to where he stood eyes wide then narrowed – he’d used a sign against her. Yennelyn did not speak; the effort to do so through the disorientation the magic created was a waste of energy.

He waited for the trap to release her. “While we wait, let me explain something to you. I can’t hurt _you_ Yennelyn. If Razikale wakes, She _will_ die and make no mistake, if you carry her I will not hesitate. Vincentius and his supporters will follow.” Cullen passed her on the stairwell. “Do not confuse my feelings for you for weakness.”

As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairwell the Yrden trap dissipated and he didn’t need his enhanced senses to grasp her frustration. Cullen did not stop despite her calls to him.

_________________________

Cullen moved the piled of books on Dorian’s preferred chair in the library alcove. “Time to sever the link, Dorian.” Cullen said.

A grin spread across Dorian’s face. “How interesting, fortuitous one might say - the Lady just stomped through here demanding the same thing. The bloom of love has not only wilted in this case but has been irrevocably obliterated from existence.”  Dorian continued to peruse various book titles and snuck a sidelong glance at Cullen. “Well done.”

Cullen fell into the chair. “You’re enjoying this. I can tell.”

Dorian turned and the sadness he read on Dorian’s face confused Cullen. “If you must know, this troubles me. I’d not been party to such rancor from Yennelyn in a great number of years. Her display of hostility brought back many memories and called into question my earlier judgement. I cannot help pondering that I – along with all the others – were duped into trusting her kinder self.”

Sinking deeper into the chair, he sighed. “Did she direct her anger towards you or me?”

“My friend, you will not escape her wrath unscathed for perhaps an indefinite amount of time.” Dorian lowered his voice and continued. “Is it true you used a sign against her? I hope for your sake, this is minor spat because she made it a point to comment how the static cage failed and she planned to perfect its use during our travel into the Wilds. Dagna should have a few enhancements for your armor ready by now; I suggest strengthening your shield.”

 _Let Yen think she asked for this, let her anger play out._ Cullen thought. “I’ll visit Dagna and check with Leliana and Josephine on our departure. Morrigan is champing at the bit to get into this temple which means she knows more than she is sharing – typical Morrigan.” Cullen returned the stacks of books to Dorian’s chair and brushed the dust from his hands. “Find someplace private and then send a runner to bring me. Let’s get this over with, Dorian.”

___________________________

Leliana complained albeit silently from the moment Cullen led them out of the Frostback Mountains and out onto the Imperial Highway. “I have a better understanding of why you are unpopular at the moment, Cullen.” Leliana remarked.

Cullen held three rope tethers to help the other horses stay in step with Shade, but only Josephine did not complain. Leliana wanted to rest in Redcliffe Village at a proper inn and Morrigan agreed; but Josephine sided with Cullen - excited to travel again, Josephine found excitement in the smallest details.

Cullen ignored Leliana’s quip and kept his head forward to hide the hint of a smile on his face.

Morrigan, still annoyed at Cullen’s refusal to consider an inn for rest, added her opinion. “Do not attempt to fool us, Cullen. ‘Tis no secret you have ears to hear the softest of sounds, you insult us when you pay no attention to us.”

Cullen planned to stop at the first base camp set a short two hours ride, he’d need to push the three to continue on and Cullen chose the simplest of methods: teasing. He drew a Quen sign, setting his shield in place, knowing Morrigan’s own abilities would alert her to the magic usage. She scoffed at his action and called to him. “Shield magic? Surely not even someone as _primitive_ as you Cullen would try to use a shield to block sound.”

Cullen fought to keep his laughter in at Morrigan’s insult. He continued to stare straight ahead and did not acknowledge her and waited for her torment to begin.

**_Denerim 9:31 Dragon_ **

_“This is the last time, witch! Stop that!” Turning around to face Morrigan and Cullen,  Alistair rubbed the back of his head. Morrigan often worked through her boredom by sending small shocks or ice hits to the back of Alistair’s head for fun. She meant no ill towards him, but the occasional meltdown proved a guilty pleasure for her._

_“Be a good man, Cullen and control that witch. Thank you.” Alistair huffed and turned back to continue walking._

_“Alistair!” Solona admonished him. “That was rude. Why do you always assume Morrigan is tormenting you? Perhaps it was an insect or a stray stone.”_

_Alistair stopped walking and stared. “Wait. A stray stone? You can’t be serious, Sol.”_

_“Stray stones are no laughing matter Alistair. Take one in the eye and you’ll change your mind.” Wynne offered._

_“That was no stone, I know the difference between a stone and magic. Morrigan’s accuracy seems to worsen depending on where I stand, but seems to improve around everyone else.” Alistair said._

_“Alistair, ‘tis simple. A good warrior,” Morrigan gestured towards Cullen, “he knows to stay out of my way.”  She crossed her arms. “But one who requires perhaps a_ little more training _, seems to move in front of me while bashing things with no regard for the rest of us.”_

_Alistair moved to draw his sword and Cullen stepped in front of him. “Don’t let her bait you, Alistair. She wants a reaction, remember?”_

_Morrigan continued her taunt. “Listen to the Witcher, Alistair.”_

Cullen felt the first zing at the back of his neck but the strength behind it so weak the pain was only the equivalent of an itch. “I see you are still playing games, Morrigan; whatever happened to ‘listen to the Witcher’, hmm?”

Morrigan scoffed. “Follow the fool is far more exact these days.”

Cullen’s laughter in response to her insult aggravated Morrigan even more and when the fires from the first camp greeted them, Morrigan broke from the group and found an empty tent.

Once settled, Cullen kept watch and talked with the guards stationed in the camp. Tense postures and military responses relaxed with a few relaxed words from Cullen after he reassured the two he was not there to judge their actions. _Rylen may have been eager for my neck, but the Inquisition’s army is disciplined and well-trained,_ he thought.

 _Rylen. Yennylen._ Cullen shifted, uncomfortable as he tried to move his thoughts away from her. The magic bond between them was gone; he’d felt the tether snap as soon as Dorian finished his ritual.

_“Right then, that’s it. I am afraid there isn’t anything elaborate about it all. I should step aside and give you time together.” Dorian shrugged._

_It was true none of them knew what to expect, reversal of the binding had never been documented. The Witcher within could hear her heart, her breath and find her magic, but the man who loved her was alone._

_Yennelyn did not speak, and the two stared at one another neither sure what to do. Cullen exhaled, “I should go.” Yennelyn nodded but left first; her earlier rage lost in the ritual, unsure steps carried her towards the door. “Yen . . . see you.” Cullen’s gentle tone stopped her. She turned back and nodded once as swift steps hurried her out of the room._

_“Don’t tell me,” Dorian sighed. “You still love her.”_

_“This is not up for discussion, Dorian.” Cullen said._

_Dorian crossed in front of Cullen and held his retreat back with an outstretched hand.  “Fine. Before you run away or rather run off – here.” Dorian handed Cullen a large leather pouch._

_“What’s all this?” Cullen asked. The contents shifted as he shook the bag and listened to the swish and swirl of what sounded like sand._

_“You hold in your hand every copy of Nerestia’s_ A Witcher’s Compendium _, Alexius’ journal and laboratory notes on the mutation process. Only the alchemical formulas for your potions and the documentation on the runes escaped the curious fire that destroyed the rest.” Dorian continued. “You are the last and no one shall have the means to create another. I cannot change the past, my friend, but I can prevent future stolen lives.”_

_The combined tasks to discover each book’s location, procure them and then have them brought to him must have taken Dorian years. “How much time have you spent on this?” Cullen asked._

_“Cullen, when someone gives you a gift that is a gesture of deepest gratitude you say ‘thank you’ rather than question the investment of time.”_

Morrigan joined him at the fire, her magic covering him. She’d do the same thing each night as they traveled together during the Blight. Cullen couldn’t be sure if she was aware or if the action was an involuntary one.

“Is it time for more teasing, Morrigan?” Cullen asked.

 “Aren’t you the witty one? I wanted to be certain you were well.” Morrigan offered. “I see the binding magic is gone and I . . . I am not quite sure what to say other than I am here – if you need.”

Cullen chuckled. “I’m tired Morrigan and while I appreciate the offer, thank you. You should rest as we’ll leave soon.”

“Must you _always_ find a way to lower the discussion to your bodily needs? I am merely offering my friendship for what I _thought_ might be a difficult time.” Morrigan stood and turned to leave.

His hand grabbed hers and tugged, swinging her arm playfully, “I know. Thank you.”

Morrigan pulled her hand free and left him at the fire. The Inquisition was ready for this, Cullen’s confidence in the people, in Yennelyn and those she gathered around her. Yennelyn’s aim was to find the eluvian, if it existed. Cullen’s was to find Corypheus.

________________________

**Arbor Wilds- The Temple of Mythal**

Magister and Witcher faced each other. “You have blocked me far too many times Witcher. Your breed was made to serve and still you defy me?”

Cullen’s grip on his sword tightened as he prepared to strike. “Looks that way.”

Corypheus stared down at Cullen expecting him to agree.  “No one told you of your place. You will join me and learn what you can become.“ Corypheus moved aside as the Lyrium Dragon glided down towards them.

Cullen did not move; air, dust and rubble disturbed by the dragon’s massive wings pelted his body until the dragon hovered above the walkway and stepped onto the stones. Mouth gaping, the dragon stretched his neck towards Cullen. A warning.

“Come now, is that how we treat a guest?” Corypheus spoke calmly to the beast.

Cullen grimaced. _He’s cooing to a fucking dragon._   A sudden memory of a young wyvern answering to Cullen’s call and stalking Dorian at Cullen’s urging almost pulled an apology from his lips _. It’s not the same thing,_ he thought _._ Cullen hoped whatever time this conversation would take could buy more for Yennelyn to find the eluvian and destroy it.

Cullen observed the two, creature and master. _Never one without the other_ , he considered. _I wonder. ._

He examined the two and found their connection through red lyrium; the threads woven into shimmering bonds between them inescapable to Cullen’s senses. _This is no Archdemon_. He guessed the creature to be a dragon changed by the shards embedded in its flesh and the life force infused and shared by the embodiment of Corruption standing before him. Cullen tried to look further into the dragon and found the course of red energy curious. _Corypheus feeds the dragon; the flow does not return – it diminishes in the beast._ Cullen kept his expression blank and assessed what he discovered. _The dragon. Kill the beast when Corypheus has given of himself and Corypheus will be weak._ Cullen found the answer. A sealed door separated him from Yen.

Corypheus addressed Cullen pulling his attention. “The Anchor is useless to me. If I give you the Vessel, will you serve me?”

Cullen scoffed. “Samson serves you; I will not answer to a _Templar_.” _You’re a terrible actor. Make him believe you are capable of betrayal. Think of Acacius,_ he prodded himself to remember all his tirades. 

“I will not follow some _human_ who sets himself above me.” Cullen stowed his sword and continued, mimicking Acacius and how he paced when he spoke. He gestured as the old Witcher had done, wildly flinging his arms out as he spoke. “These others? They follow _me_. What will _you_ give me?”

Corypheus laughed. “So the Witcher can be bought? As you wish. I offer the Vessel and the girl.”  Corypheus pushed on the dragon’s head and the beast stretched his wings and took flight with one last snap of his jaws in Cullen’s direction.

 _I don’t like you either._ Cullen thought. _Just get me inside the damn temple_.

The dragon rose higher and he watched as it focused its strength and energy blasts, not on the doors but on the wall until stone crumbled revealing a hole large enough for Cullen to climb into the temple. He saw only one problem. The opening was against a sheer wall; he could not climb over to it. Cullen clapped for the dragon.

Corypheus was not amused. “Do not try my patience. When you enter, the Vessel is yours to dispatch. You may keep the woman; however, everything else that breathes within the walls . . . dies.”

Cullen nodded in response –he would not give his word. The dragon hovered over Cullen and plucked him from the passageway into his claws. The unfriendly squeeze around his ribs reaffirmed the dragon’s preference was to eliminate Cullen rather than help. He struggled against the grasp of the beast as it tightened only to be flung into the opening to send Cullen rolling through an antechamber.

Cullen stood and returned to the opening to see Corypheus and the dragon rise into the air. “I’ll be back for you later, beast.” He could hear the shouts of Yennelyn’s party and feel the rising tide of deep magic and followed its pull out into a large courtyard.

He arrived as the last Red Templar fell to Yennelyn’s magic.

The party turned to focus their attacks on Cullen. His sword quickly sheathed he put both hands out towards the party. “It’s me.”

Cassandra remained at the ready. “Prove it.” She demanded.

“Andraste’s ass, Seeker.” Varric grumbled. “Look at him. Creepy yellow eyes, white hair, pissed off stare. It’s him.”

“Thanks Varric, how convincing.” Cullen said and pushed past Cassandra and Varric to Yennelyn’s side. “There isn’t time. Corypheus thinks I’ve betrayed the Inquisition to fight for him.”

“You what?!” Yennelyn stepped back.

“Yen, a little faith please. Where’s Samson?” Cullen could not delay. Corypheus would find a way in to the temple soon.

Dorian spoke first. “The rest of them went through that crevice there. Morrigan suggested we take the petitioners route and not the caverns.”

Cullen nodded as he moved towards the crevice. Tree growth or earth movement opened the gash in the ground and Cullen could see the drop was not dangerous. “Morrigan is right. The guardians of this temple will value your respect. I will clear out the remaining Templars.”

Yennelyn tried to protest but before a single word could be spoken, Cullen disappeared into the crevice.

[Art by @cocotingo on tumblr](http://cocotingo.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear from you! Kudos are appreciated and please let me know what you think. It's your input that helps keep this story going.


	20. Collapsed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The White Spire is the last stronghold the Templar Order holds in Southern Thedas. Whispers of a single prisoner reach the Inquisition. Yennelyn must look outside her companions to set things right.

 

_All things in this world are finite . . ._

A voice carries through the halls as a young man intones the Chant. He sings of compassion and mercy and the sorrow the Maker feels at the failings of His children. But this is not a Chantry; it is a remnant of the war, a symbol of what once was and will likely never be again. 

Freed years prior from the tether of their phylacteries, the mages have left the tower to their former guards.

The White Spire is no longer touched by magic. The glow and the absence of light allows the dark to choke the righteous. It is the last stronghold of a dying order and the path the Maker set before them is lost.

She follows the Templars as closely as she dares and even though she’s seen them all her life she has never felt fear like this; the sound of the Chant, once soothing, sends a shiver through to her bones. _This isn’t right_ , she thinks. _They aren’t right_.   The two Templars in front of her carry torches to illuminate the darkened halls, but the firelight casts strange shadows as they walk down staircase after staircase. She stumbles at one point and it is only then that one of them takes her arm to offer support. She wrenches it free and glares at the soldier before her.

The air cools as she reaches the cells.  Each cell is left open; no one is kept inside. She is led to the last cell to the left, the largest of them, and she covers her mouth with a handkerchief. The air is thick with sweat and blood and absence of waste tells her this place is for her benefit. This is not where the prisoner is kept. She is to offer identification of the man within.

His arms, bound in shackles in the cell sag from the awkward angle and weight of his large frame. He is scarred, not new but a lifetime of pain and suffering etched into flesh. The Templar to her right barks a command to the man but he does not respond. His long hair covers his face, but she sees the broken skin on his cheek, the bruised and split eyelid.

“Bring me water and alcohol or I will not help!” She orders the Templars in front of her, a slight tremor to her voice. The man lifts his head but says nothing. “How am I to tell you if I know him under all that gore and filth?” The two men exchange a pointed look and shrug. “Do it now or I shall report this to every noble house from here to Denerim!” She finds new strength in her words as the Templars move at her insistence.  “I will stay here and wait.”

Exhaling as the two leave her to fetch the requested items, she turns to the man and speaks softly but with all haste.

“I don’t know why I am here. The Templars believe I know who you are. Is your mind clear?” She asks.

 The man nods, and she moves closer. “Who are you? Let me help you.” 

Startled at their silent return she accepts the water, rags and a bottle of white liquid. She rings the rag out and reaches for his face. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know,” he says.

She gasps. The kindness in two small words and his gruff but gentle voice reminded her of man long gone.

He worked all his life to give them a home and even after they’d lost so much his voice never left her memory. _Father. It’s not him, but it is his voice_. An absent smile grows as she cleans the man’s face remembering lessons in shaving whiskers to her brothers and scaring the youngest with his suds filled face.

The grime and blood washes away with her gentle hand and she is confused by his docile nature. _This man is no criminal._ He cringes and sucks in air each time the harsh alcohol seeps into his open wounds. His pain at her hand disturbs her and she asks if he will allow her to rinse his hair and face. He nods.

She asks the Templar to pour the remaining water over the man’s head and cautions him to be gentle. The bucket tilts and covers his head and neck and spills to the hay covered floor, spreading out to soak the dusty ground. She grabs the last rag to squelch the water from his hair and dry his face.

She sees someone in the face before her, but cannot place him. She muses he is simply a Fereldan man and shares the traits of so many like him. His wet hair curls on its own, not unlike her siblings. She is struck by the stark white locks and tanned face.  The scar on his left cheek is deep, but does not steal his handsome lines. There is a thought creeping through her head, the crease in his brow, the squared lines of his jaw and chin, all of it calls to her as though she knows the parts but is unfamiliar with the face they create.

He opens his eyes, and she stumbles backwards. She sees the eyes of a beast where human eyes should rest. He looks at her fear and his features soften in an attempt to console or convince her he is no threat.  

 _Father.  His face. . .his face it did that when he yelled and we cried._ She raises her hand to her mouth to cover the rising panic. She tries to breathe deep and calm herself and fears she will faint. His gentle smile and his newly closed eyes give way to a soothing voice and words from so many years ago.

“ _And so I say to you now: do not go past the edge of the wood. You are too young and too foolish to face the dangers within_.”  He recites a bedtime tale from her childhood _._

She finishes the line. “ _You once had an older brother who would’ve agreed._ I remember The Witchwood.” She offers. “You’re Fereldan.” _The Witchwood is a children’s tale._ _Father used to tell it to us when we were younger._   _Why would this man share a line from a children’s tale? Is he trying to tell me something? I never had an older brother. I had a younger. . .but he died in the woods. The woods. Oh Maker . . . Father’s brow and jaw and the story. . .Cullen!_ Eyes wide she bites her lip to strangle the cry bubbling in her chest.

Cullen sighs as recognition crosses her face. He shakes his head so as not to draw the guard’s attention. _Mia. Do not say you know me. How can I tell her? Disavow me, please._

Mia’s mind races, eyes wide in fear she looks to Cullen for help. He shakes his head again. In the absence of words there is nothing she can do but try to help. _I can’t let them know. I must leave or escape this tower to find help. That woman. . . in the hood - she’ll help._ The other who wrote her from the Tower when Cullen disappeared; the letter was in a chest. _I’ll find her too._

She peers into his eyes again and he sees the single tear fall and her quickly wipe it away. The mess of sun-touched curls, the flush in her skin, the sadness on her face in seeing him beaten and bloodied moves him but it was her eyes that broke through his denials of the life before. Her eyes were his once, the warmth in the richness of their color a memory now. He pleads silently to her. _Please, Mia. Sister, say nothing._

The Knight-Commander and his men stomp into the prison and break the connection between sister and brother. “Enough of this, do you know him?” He grabs Mia by the arm prompting Cullen to snarl and pull against his chains.

“Touch her once more and this place will be the last you ever see.” Cullen narrows his gaze and watches the fear as it grips his jailer. “Do not test me. Let the woman go, she does not know me.”

She shakes her head. If it is to admit she does not know him or as a protest to leave him chained Cullen does not know. He believes they will not kill him, but until the Templars are given the answers they seek he will remain in the Spire.

The Knight-Commander gestures to several Templars to guide the woman back to the entrance. Mia uses every shred of strength within her not to look back at her brother.   

_____________________________

**Skyhold**

Leliana’s eyes were everywhere. She’d put her people up against any in all of Thedas.  When Cullen left the Temple of Mythal, they’d all assumed he’d defected to aid Corypheus in spite of Yennelyn’s protests to the contrary; but it was the former Templar Belinda Darrow who’d discovered Cullen was a prisoner in the White Spire.

Ser Belinda Darrow continued her service to the Divine after the Order left the Chantry; this service put her in the company of the Inquisition. When Ser Belinda first learned of the Witcher’s arrival, she kept her distance. She’d been taught the same as all Templars: a Witcher was an abomination in the eyes of the Maker, an animal to be put down lest it turn on its master.  That was until Redcliffe. Ser Belinda was in the village after Gereon Alexius had been captured and was surprised to see the Witcher interact with many of the villagers. She learned from a storyteller that Cullen traveled with the Hero during the Blight and made many visits to the castle and the old inn.

Ser Belinda led missions for the Inquisition but always in full Templar armor. It allowed her to move freely through occupied cities and towns and glean information. She’d stopped in Val Royeaux on her route back to Skyhold and overhead several guards talking about the capture of the Witcher. Her most recent message showed Mia Rutherford could not supply the identity of the Witcher and she’d been sent on her way. Leliana planned to intercept Mia’s return home and have her brought to Skyhold to help the Inquisition with critical information. She had the situation, such as it was, under control. The Inquisition, on the other hand, spiraled into an uncertain future.

Yennelyn knew she had to face Corypheus and the longer the days stretched on, she risked more than just Cullen’s life. She’d sent messages to King Alistair, Warden Stroud, and Hawke and called in every favor, contacted every known associate of Cullen to bring him back to her. She would face Corypheus, but she wanted Cullen in Skyhold when she returned.  Yennelyn paced in her quarters in an attempt to find an answer to her concerns.

Dorian, Cassandra and Varric announced themselves before climbing the last staircase leading to her rooms. Cassandra thought she might have a solution.

“Inquisitor –Yennelyn,” she started. “I would like to take four or five others with me to find Cullen. The rest will remain with you and-”

Yennelyn stopped Cassandra with a raised hand. “No. Neither you nor Leliana will be involved, if either of you is to be the next Divine, any participation in this mission would prevent your appointment.”

Varric stepped closer. “Listen Princess, Hawke is on the way, we know that from the message she sent. I’ll go with Hawke and Sparkler here and take Blackwall.”

Yennelyn closed her eyes. _I can do this. There has to be a way_ , she reasoned to herself. “Cassandra, gather everyone in the War Room, I’ll join you there.”

Cassandra agreed. “Yes, Inquisitor.”  

Dorian waited for Cassandra to leave.  “Yennelyn, I’ll stay with you. Now, before you protest, I’ll prepare as many potions as is practical to carry and be explicit in my instructions.”

His response hit her unprepared. She was sure Dorian would insist on joining the group going to Orlais. “Are you sure? I thought you’d prefer to help find him over-“

Dorian laughed. “You think I would abandon you for Cullen?” He slunk against the wall. “I’ll stay because of him. The Temple - I was there and if you think to deny what I saw with my own eyes you are mistaken my dear.”

Yennelyn could not follow Dorian’s explanation. “Dorian?”

He crossed the room to the chaise and fell into the seat. “Keeping up with the two of you is aging me far quicker than I deserve. Sit with me, please.” Waiting for her to join him, he took her hand in his and continued. “I know why Cullen left, in fact I would wager every last coin this was according to a plan of his own design. He has but one weakness and that is you, Yennelyn.”

She frowned. “Cullen would never join Corypheus.”

Dorian disagreed. “I’m afraid that’s what he did. Cullen has been trying to find the source of the Red Templars, yes?” Yennelyn nodded. “It was Cullen who defeated Samson in the Temple and if Cullen learned where Samson hid his Templars and the Red Lyrium caches?”

“He would go with them to discover all he could and then eliminate them.” Yennelyn gripped Dorian’s hand. “You are certain Cullen is unaffected by lyrium in any form?” Her mind reeled as it wandered through the images of the afflicted they’d battled. “Dorian, I must know!”

“I would not lie to you Yennelyn. Lyrium has no effect on his body. Dagna is certain Cullen’s immunity carries to the red as well. She believes . . . I’m not sure how to explain it. There is something about the transformation process which blocks the effects of lyrium altogether. He could ingest it, implant it and nothing will happen.” _I only hope Dagna is correct_ , he thought.

“A game of chess, nothing more,” she remembered.

Dorian, half lost in his own concerns, was not fully listening but the phrase seemed familiar. “What did you say?”

_____________________

Leliana calculated it would take time for Cassandra to gather everyone into the War Room and continued to send out requests and assignments. If the Spire was corrupted as one agent reported, Hawke would need help.  Cullen would never betray Yennelyn and the others. Leliana suspected he planned to infiltrate the stronghold and weaken the Red Templars from within.

She raised her head to the sound of Josephine’s frantic voice calling after someone climbing the stairs at a hurried pace. “Please, your Majesty a moment!” Josephine pleaded.

Leliana pursed her lips; she’d received the message but hoped it was in jest. “Apparently not,” Leliana said aloud, waiting for the familiar form of one King of Ferelden.

Alistair’s grin widened to see Leliana’s obvious chagrin. “Leliana! Did you miss me?” He laughed and jumped the last step.

Without forethought she rolled her eyes at Alistair’s silly display. Josephine’s glare and stern expression told Leliana her rude behavior against the king was noticed. She huffed to herself and stomped down the stairs.

“Leliana did I just see an eye roll from you? _You_ are picking up _someone’s_ bad habits.  Come now Lil, you reached out to me for help and here I am,” Alistair remarked.  He wasn’t offended, but Leliana was remarkably sensitive to comparisons to others –especially to Cullen.

“Speaking of bad habits, it’s Leliana if you please; I reached out for help, your Majesty, not you.” Leliana sighed and continued. “That is to say it is not unpleasant to see you again, but this is not the time for the King of Ferelden to decide to start adventuring or lead a rescue.”

He laughed. “My dear _Leliana_ , allow me to explain.” Alistair looked around for any who might overhear and leaned towards her. “I had to talk Sol out of her armor, normally a very enjoyable act, but in this case she was preparing to storm the Spire with a contingent of Wardens and demand our friend’s release. My presence, as _unwelcome_ as it may be, prevents her from starting a war. Now, you know my dear wife and can guess as to the . . . intensity of her feelings on this matter. So choose. It’s either the aging king with sword and shield or a furious former Warden Commander ready to dismantle the Spire stone by stone to find him and take much of Val Royeaux with her in the campaign. We’ve finally come to terms with the Empress and I’d like to preserve what you and others have worked so hard to achieve.”

Leliana stood straight to face King Alistair. “That was almost convincing, Alistair. All you needed to tell me was that you came in her stead. The rest I already knew.” She leaned across the table and grabbed the message the Queen had sent ahead of Alistair. Leliana lifted the note and read it aloud. “ _‘Sending Alistair instead of bringing the Wardens to raze the Spire. Be nice.’“_

Alistair cocked his eyebrow and smirked. “Be nice? Why would Sol need to remind you to be nice?”

She turned back to her desk and sighed. “I assure you, I have no idea. If you will follow me, Hawke is expected and we are to meet with the Inquisitor.”

He nodded. “The infamous Lady Yennelyn of Ostwick, Cullen’s kept her a secret until now. What can I expect?”

Leliana extinguished the candles on her desk but Alistair did not miss her eyes close and lips move in prayer.

____________________

**The White Spire**

Cullen replayed the events of the Temple in his head while he waited for the next round of questioning and attempts to ply him with lyrium.

_“Funny thing about the balance of power, it’s fragile. Like your armor.” Cullen offers._

_“My armor? You’re mistaken. The Elder One has given me his power.” Samson’s pride fuels his arrogant laughter._

_Cullen holds up the rune constructed by Dagna and attempts to laugh theatrically. “About that, Samson. You’ve been replaced.”_

_Dorian turns to Yennelyn, his brow furrows at Cullen’s strange behavior. “A moment please, Cullen…”_

_“Not now, Dorian!” A spinning arc of light wraps in tight circles around the rune until it flashes along with Samson’s armor, its red hue no longer radiates from the center crystal._

_“Yennelyn! Use the cage now!” Cullen yells and advances on Samson. Losing his armor staggers him for a moment and Cullen sees the flow of red lyrium coursing through Samson’s body. He risks getting caught in the static cage to keep Samson away from the party._

_Samson’s grip solidifies on his broadsword and Cullen draws the Quen sign._

_Four Red Templar Knights converge on Cullen. Pulsing chest crystals beat a corrupted rhythm with each lumbering step towards him._

_Blackwall joins Cullen on his right side. “I’ll stay, Witcher.” Cullen nods but does not face him. The two circle opposite one another to draw attention and confuse the Knights._

_One of the four roars and runs towards Cullen. Their movements are slow and Cullen deflects the incoming blow and turns away hacking at the creature’s back as it passes.  The Knight flexes and stretches his arms wide and stomps forward fists ready._

_Cullen pulls back as a blast of ice freezes the Knight. He raises a Thunderbolt potion to his lips and drinks letting the strength of the potion merge with him. He tightens his grip on his sword slashing and hacking until the Templar shatters into pieces._

_“We won’t get that opportunity again,” Cullen warns._

_Bull launches Varric into the air sending a volley of arrows to cluster the three. “Hit them now!” Varric yells and rolls to a stop.  Cullen sees Samson caught in the static cage and contained for now giving them time to deal with the three Knights._

_“Mind your toes!” Dorian warns as a runic circle appears under the three Templars. The blast of fire staggers them into each other as another volley of arrows rains down on them. Yennelyn’s lightning magic roots the Knights to their place._

_Cullen readies to finish off the Knight in front of him until he senses the cage is dissipating. Cassandra’s strong voice rings out.  “Protect the Inquisitor!” She sees the danger as well and puts herself between Samson and Yennelyn._

_“Witcher! Eyes front and finish this!” Blackwall’s concern in missed moments is realized as the first of the Knights regains his focus. Blackwall barrels into the group shield out to knock two to the knee. Cullen slashes upwards shattering the pulsing crystal and connecting with the Knight’s face; the corrupted Templar screams and covers himself unable to maintain his balance. Cullen takes the lead and sheathes his sword to release his daggers from the harness forcing them in and out of the unbalanced Templar’s neck._

_Varric warns of another volley just before the arrows pepper and pierce the Templars allowing Cullen and Blackwall to dispatch both remaining Knights._

_Cassandra and Yennelyn meet Samson blow for blow. Cullen will pull Samson’s attention towards him, not with a blade but with words._

_An ear-splitting whistle fills the courtyard, pulling Samson’s attention towards Cullen. “The great Templar Samson faces two women and cannot gain control of the battle?” He laughs. “The Elder One clearly chose the wrong Templar. Time for a lesson, recruit.” Cullen snarls and waits for Samson to attack._

_“You should join me Cullen.” Samson readies his broadsword. Cullen sees how the Red Lyrium hungrily consumes Samson’s body without the protection of his armor._

_“Join you? I’m here to relieve you.” Cullen charges, sword raised as he spins to his left with a slash at Samson’s face. He needs to unseat him, unbalance him quickly; at this close range any blow from Samson’s broadsword will do significant damage. He drew a Quen sign and rolled away setting a wide berth between the two._

_“Cullen! The sword!” Yennelyn cries out in warning forcing Cullen to take a closer look._

_“It can’t be,” He murmurs._ Meredith’s sword. If there was such a thing as a corrupted sword, infused with red lyrium, this monstrous blade was it, _he reasons._ _He pulls his attention back to Samson and prepares._

_Cullen evades the first sweep of the broadsword and surges forward to gain ground. He swings to his left and staggers Samson. “Not so strong without your guard, Samson.”_

_Cullen draws the Ignii sign and holds it sending a concentrated fire blast to engulf his opponent. Samson swings through the fire blast knocking Cullen back._

_“Cullen!” Yennelyn shrieks and  shield magic surrounds him._

_“Yen, get to the Well!” Cullen deflects the spinning motion of the broadsword disorienting Samson enough to land a hack to the right and then left before he rolls away again._

_“Quen!” The shout comes from behind Cullen and without hesitation his shield raises. The ice barrage impacts them both but Samson is unprepared and falls to his knee. Cullen quickly sheathes his sword and spins right with dagger in hand._

_“No Cullen! Alive! Alive!” Yennelyn screams. Cullen slides around Samson drawing the Yrden sign. The violet runes glow on the ground beneath disorienting Samson enough for Cullen to disarm him._

_Yennelyn joins him as Samson’s wrists are secured by Varric._

_“A moment Varric.” Cullen approaches Samson dagger in hand._

_Yennelyn pulls on Cullen’s arm. “Please. We need him alive.”_

_He releases the buckles on Samson’s chest armor cutting them and wrenches the chest plate free. “I need this for proof.”_

_She searches his face for understanding of his actions. Cullen would never betray her. “What are you doing?”_

_“I’m taking my place, Yen – with Corypheus and the Templars. Go, while I still remember you.” A collective gasp fills the courtyard. Cullen hears the multiple requests for explanations and clarifications but ignores them all._

_Abelas, one of the elvhen guardians interrupts the private conversation. “Witcher, you are not bound to these creatures - the time of your servitude ended centuries ago. If you wish to serve, you may remain here to protect what we could not.”_

_Cullen locks his eyes to Yennelyn’s and smiles. “I protect what matters most.”_

_Yennelyn shakes her head. “What are you doing?” She asks again and her voice breaks._

_“A game of chess, nothing more,” Cullen whispers and presses his lips to her forehead before he speaks to her again. “I love you. Always will. See you.”_

_Morrigan seizes the moment to move towards the staircase to the Well while everyone watches the scene play out before them._

_“No! You must not desecrate the Well of Sorrows! It is not for you!” Abelas sprints ahead of her._

_“Morrigan, wait!” Cassandra calls after her and follows._

_Cullen moves a loose strand of hair behind Yennelyn’s ear. “Do me a favor. Convince Abelas to help you, but let someone else carry whatever the burden. There is always a price for power, Yen.”_

_She nods. “A favor in return?” She waits for the slight nod from him before she continues. “Try not to get killed?”_

_Cullen winks and pushes her gently away. “I’ll see what I can do.”_

___________________________

**Skyhold**

“A game of chess, nothing more,” Yennelyn repeated.  “Cullen spoke those words before he left to follow the Red Templar’s trail from the Temple.”

Dorian clapped and laughed. “This is the endgame, my dear! Can’t you feel it? You have forced the endgame. Cullen seeks to cut off access to protection afforded to Corypheus. Take out the Red Templars and all that remains is the Dragon.  Corypheus is vulnerable!”

Yennelyn did not follow. “Dorian, this is not a game!”

He knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. “Where is the game board? I know he tried to teach you and gave you a set. Where is it?” She pointed to the bookcase where the wooden case and board gathered dust unused.

Dorian crossed to gather the board and pieces. “Remember, my dear. See things as he does.” Dorian placed three pieces in the center of the board. This is Corypheus. You have removed every piece of his plan except for two lines.” He pointed to the two pieces flanking the center.  “Attack and defense.”

“Dorian, I don’t understand.” Yennelyn complained. She jumped as he slammed the piece down on the board and stowed them away.

Dorian replaced the board and case on the shelf. “I believe I am quite through with this little charade, Princess.  Do not stand there and pretend you don’t possess the mental capacity for intelligent reasoning or even an ounce of cunning – I’ve been on the receiving end of your _shit_ and I am tired of the games.”  He hadn’t meant to be harsh. The words slipped out and Dorian regretted them as soon as they hung in the air. The anger in his face fell away as he quickly apologized. “Forgive me, my words were unkind. Maevaris wrote me of your plans for the Magesterium and they are brilliant, my dear. So hearing you pretend that you are weak and incapable of strategic thought, I wonder if you think that it is me who is not worthy.”

Yennelyn understood the truth of his words. “I apologize. You’re right, you know. It’s been easier to play the weak and unworldly Lady Trevelyan. Even Cullen treats me as such.”

“Cullen would agree the sky is red and not blue if it keeps you happy. He has no regard for himself because the fool is so in love with you nothing matters to him but your well-being.” Dorian found the opportunity to pull Yennelyn back to the task at hand. “He’d even pretend to be the new general for Corypheus to gain entry to the Red Templars' stronghold and use that to aid your cause.”

“The Red Templars.” Yennelyn concluded. Cullen’s words made sense to her now. “Cullen wanted to distract and destroy the Red Templars, leaving us with Corypheus. But what of the dragon?”

 “I do not know. I will assume he did not expect to be detained and perhaps thought to battle the dragon himself.” Dorian took a deep breath.  “You have some very difficult decisions to make. Are you ready . . . Inquisitor?”

_____________________

The War Room saw its share of disagreements and discussions, but none like this. Two missions sat on the table: infiltrate the White Spire to retrieve Cullen or hunt Corypheus.

“Coryphyfish is lickin’ his wounds!” Sera yelled out over the group. “Get the Witcher first!” Blackwall joined in and added his support for the White Spire mission.

Cassandra joined Yennelyn at the table.  “Normally, I would say focus on the task at hand. Defeat Corypheus and end this.”  She continued. “If you divide us you risk weakening a solid attack force but I fear to do so may mean Cullen is lost. I do not envy your decision, but I willingly accept the mission you set for me, Inquisitor.”  
  
Dorian leaned in to the conversation. “A small group should go to the Spire. I will have Cullen’s potions completed within two hours and the party may go.

Yennelyn nodded. To those gathered around the room she appeared to be deep in thought considering all the points raised by her companions. Her irritation and disappointment in Cullen’s so-called friends and their failure to come when needed gave way to anger.

“Where is Leliana? What about Hawke? Cullen is good enough to be at their back when they need him but now?” Yennelyn pulled the door open and walked into someone she did not know. “Who in the Void are you?”

He towered above her; his rust colored leather armor was fitted to his tall frame. She looked up into his smiling face and her stern look drew his laughter. “Lady Yennelyn, I wish our first meeting was under better circumstances, but I am here to help in any way I can.” His shoulder length hair was a mix of reddish brown and red hair and the beard he wore was styled similarly to Cullen’s preferred length and fullness.

“You must be Alistair. You’re late.”

“Oh shit.” Varric murmured.  His exclamation sent laughter through the room. Josephine hushed the group and hurried to Yennelyn’s side. “My Lady Inquisitor, may I present His Majesty, Alistair Theirin King of Ferelden.”

Yennelyn looked into the king’s smiling eyes in full knowledge of her serious slight against him. “I expected more from you the way Cullen speaks of you. Excuse me, your Majesty.” She pushed her way through and into the adjoining hall.

Alistair looked to Josephine. “I believe . . . I was just dismissed.” Josephine’s apologetic expression and quick words preceded her controlled walk through the halls to retrieve Yennelyn.

Yennelyn turned to face the door leading back to the War Room.  She closed her eyes and reached out to Cullen. She should not have felt any connection to him and yet something called to her, compelled her to follow it.

“Is that. . .music?” Yennelyn wondered aloud.  She rushed through the main hall towards the source of the song near the door to the garden. A lone woman’s voice echoed around her. She entered the breezeway and pushed the door to the garden open out into the sun.

The song reminded her of a lament, a single voice in sorrow laced tones.  “There’s no one here,” she mused. Still the sounds grew louder as she passed the gazebo. “Where are you?” Yennelyn called out. Morrigan observed Yennelyn’s strange behavior from the bench where she sat and took notice of the emptied garden.

 _Curious that strong magic compels all to stay away from here_ , _save me_ , she wondered. _What calls to the Lady, I must consider this with all haste_ , _for it cannot be good._

Morrigan’s curiosity changed to fear as Yennelyn opened the door to the resting place of the eluvian. Morrigan would need help if this was Razikale’s will that pulled Yennelyn. Pulling the door open she faced Lady Josephine and Alistair. She hesitated. Morrigan did not trust her senses and pressed a finger to Alistair’s chest.

“Morrigan, if that is some sort of witchy greeting, it’s really quite strange, even for you.”  Alistair said.

She realized Alistair stood before her and not a projection of magic. “For once I am pleased to see you, Alistair. The Inquisitor . . . there is strong magic here and it should not be able to penetrate Skyhold.” Morrigan’s attempt to explain her concerns failed to convince Alistair and Josephine. “Listen to me, something calls to her, the eluvian, ask the elf and Dorian to come with all speed! Do not stand there, Alistair! Please!” She hurried across the garden away from him.

Alistair would have thought it a ruse to get rid of him until Morrigan said ‘please’.  “Her distress is real enough, I recall meeting Dorian in Denerim and I believe he was in the War Room, but where is this elf?”

Josephine assured Alistair she would bring both back to the garden and asked that he remain with Morrigan.  Josephine disappeared before he could respond. “My pleasure, ah yes, me with Morrigan in the garden. That would be lovely,”  Alistair said aloud. _This playing the idiot in public is really ridiculous_ , he thought. ”Where did Morrigan go?”

He followed Morrigan’s path across the garden to an open door. A large mirror rested against the far wall. His Templar and Warden years far behind him did not prevent his awareness of the strong magic emanating from the mirror. “This must be one of the eluvians that Cullen encountered all those years ago. As foolish as others may believe me to be, there can be no doubt this is where Morrigan and Lady Yennelyn were headed.”

Alistair placed his hand against the shimmering glow that shifted in patterns and waves. A tentative touch against the mirror revealed no pain or discomfort.  He heard voices calling for him from the garden but ignored them as he stepped through the barrier.

“If it isn’t the boy king come to call.” A woman’s voice, older, deep and biting continued. “So you’re the one who tried to have my daughter killed. What’s a murder between friends - a fine way to repay my kindness? To think. . . I risked my safety to rescue you and your Warden friend only to find you an ungrateful wretch. Welcome to the Fade, _your Majesty_.”

Alistair stumbled backwards. Her appearance had changed, but it was well over ten years since they’d last faced each other. He’d agreed to lie about vanquishing her to fool Morrigan and she’d promised never to appear again and yet, she stood before him now. Alistair narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms. “Flemeth.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Replica_Jester and felandaris for the creative input and beta work.
> 
> The Witchwood quote is not my work and can be found in The World of Thedas, Vol.2, page 212


	21. Destroyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alistair follows Yennelyn and Morrigan into the Eluvian while Cullen is still a prisoner in the White Spire. Alistair must face Flemeth again in hopes of rescuing Yennelyn before he sets off to find Cullen.

“What do you mean you cannot activate the mirror? You’re an elf and a mage; surely there is some sort of way to wake this up.” Dorian turned back to Solas. “Listen carefully, the King of Ferelden is in there somewhere but more importantly if Cullen returns and learns that Yennelyn is lost somewhere in that Eluvian . . . let’s just _assume_ that he won’t be pleased.”

Solas shook his head. “That I am an elf has no bearing on this Eluvian, I cannot say how the Lady activated the mirror or perhaps this is the Other waking and it is best we do not follow.”

The usual calm and reserve that surrounded Josephine cracked. Josephine never infringed on another’s personal space, it was impolite and touching another person was simply not done. She stepped between Solas and Dorian and clasped Solas’ hand. “You cannot abandon the King in such a place; we would be guilty of numerous crimes!” Dorian smirked and coughed to gain Josephine’s attention. She quickly dropped his hand and slinked out from between the two men, eyes shifting in hopes her outburst had not caused offense. “I . . . must apologize.”  In the blink of an eye, Lady Josephine stood composed, hands clasped and voice steady to finish her conversation.  “I ask you Solas, anything you can do to assist in the king’s retrieval can only help our position.”

____________________

Alistair’s journey through the mirror brought him into a place he’d seen many years ago. The Fade.   There were differences, the colors here were richer, darker and the rock formations had grown. He’d climbed steps etched into the rock face leading him on a path towards arguing voices. The mist he remembered in the Fade was a sickly green here, not the pale white in his memory. Grotesque forms grew from the rocks and held red flames. He remembered their position to find his way back to the mirror. After acknowledging him, Flemeth and Morrigan continued their argument.

Alistair did not understand everything he overheard; a frantic discussion about a well, a temple and some kind of pact between them, it was all confusing to him but his concern was the safety of the Inquisitor.  Alistair glanced at her several times; this was not the woman he’d heard about from Cullen – even with the little he knew.  The woman whom Cullen had described was formidable, calculating and shrewd. Yennelyn’s hunched posture and timid presence was in direct contrast Alistair’s image of her. “Stay close, I swear I will not let Flemeth harm you.”

Morrigan’s posture slumped and her head dropped. “Alistair one would surmise after all this time that perhaps you might learn to _listen_ when you are asked to find someone. I do not recall inviting you to follow me here!”

Alistair grumbled. “Forgive me Morrigan, for a moment in the garden I thought you showed signs of becoming _human_ and I followed to render aid.”

She scoffed. “Render – render aid?” Morrigan threw up her hands. “Alistair, when I need directions to the larder or which clothes I carry need to be washed by the smell I shall ask for your help. You are the last person I would ever ask to help me.”

Alistair closed the distance between them. “Trust me Morrigan.  You are the last creature in all of Thedas I would ever consider helping.” He moved within a single step from her. “I know _everything_. Everything you planned and everything you tried to do.”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at him. “You and Solona had to have your own little pet Witcher. _You_ changed him.   You took him from me. I will never forgive you for interfering in my life.”

Alistair laughed at her words. “He was never yours to begin with, Morrigan. Poor little witch-thief, is that the lie you tell yourself? We’re done. May you and your mother enjoy your little reunion, we’ll be leaving now.”

Flemeth’s laugh was more sardonic than Alistair remembered, in fact her scorn was so deeply rooted each word she spoke sliced through him.

“What a lovely show – only you’re not going anywhere _Alistair_.”

Alistair held his tongue although he’d had more than enough of Morrigan and her mother. He had to protect Yennelyn and find a way out. “I cannot allow you to harm the Lady Trevelyan.”  

“Harm her? You should be far more concerned with your own safety.” She closed in on Alistair, arms outstretched. “Well? Boy king? I did not expect to cross paths again and yet how _lovely_ it is to see you.  Shall we play a game?  I’ll give you a head start and then take your _pretty_ ,” she closed in on him, “ _little_ ,” her gloved hand stretched out towards his chin, “ _head_.” Flemeth lifted Alistair’s chin with her armored glove and he pulled away reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Mother, please,” Morrigan sighed, “why are you here?”

Flemeth glared at Alistair and his weapon hand ready to fight. “Oh no, there will be no fighting here.  You need me.”

Alistair scoffed at Flemeth’s claim. He’d learned she was not to be trusted. “There is nothing we need from you.”

Morrigan found her Mother’s appearance troublesome. “Mother, how is this possible?” The fear on Yennelyn’s face worried Morrigan. “You called the Inquisitor here? Mother, you cannot harm her - the Witcher – Cullen will not rest if you do.”

Flemeth stood before her daughter resting her hands on Morrigan’s shoulders. “My dear girl, are you still holding on to hope for the Witcher to choose you?” Flemeth clucked her tongue. “I thought I raised you to be stronger than some human girl child pining away for a man who cares for another.”

The look of loathing from daughter to mother caught Alistair off guard; but he moved closer to Yennelyn to shield her from Flemeth.

“Enough, Mother. Release the Inquisitor from whatever plans you may have and allow me to return with my companions.” Morrigan’s voice waivered; her downturned eyes and hint of a frown implied her mother had exposed the truth. Flemeth grinned.

“Be quiet girl, this is not about you.” Flemeth turned towards Alistair and Yennelyn.  “Move aside, I will not harm your Inquisitor.”

Yennelyn straightened and sidestepped around Alistair but squeezed his forearm as she passed. He took the gesture as a sign of her awareness. “The music was you?” Yennelyn asked.

Flemeth’s harsh tone disappeared as she spoke with Yennelyn. “I’m afraid not, my dear; the same music guided me here to find you. Unfortunate, but I believe _your guest_ had plans for you here.” Yennelyn fought back tears. Razikale meant to claim her here.

“Why did you come, Flemeth?” Yennelyn asked. “Will you end this for me?”

“No!” Morrigan and Alistair screamed in unison and leapt into action Alistair grabbed Yennelyn  pulling her away with him as Morrigan set a barrier around them.

“Mother, you cannot touch her!” Strength found she stood between her mother and the others.

Flemeth threw up her arms and sighed. “Foolish girl, I can take the Old One. You believed me about the Well of Sorrows, listen to the voices again what do they tell you?”

Morrigan turned away and closed her eyes while Alistair and Yennelyn looked on.  Flemeth focused on Alistair, the ever tightening grip on the sword hilt and his eyes taking in every part of the surrounding Fade.

Narrowed eyes and a thoughtful pause brought Flemeth closer to Alistair. “So, the naïve little Warden grew up. How interesting. I wonder how many of your loyal subjects comprehend their happy little king hides his true self behind idiotic games.”

“If you will help, then help. Bait me if you wish, but I will see the Inquisitor home first.” Alistair focused on Flemeth’s arrogance.  He stood straight, arms crossed with Yennelyn behind him daring Flemeth to challenge him. His eyes did not shy from hers and he held her flippant gaze. “Once the lady is safe, I will show you what the ‘little Warden’ can do.” Alistair’s arm twitched as it longed to reach for his sword.

Morrigan reached out to Alistair. “Stop. Mother speaks the truth Alistair, she can help. Do what you will Mother and then release us.”

______________________________

_She moved towards the edge of the mattress carefully so as not to wake him. “Yen.”  His strong hands held her from moving any further._

_“Cullen, stop. Let me go.” Yennelyn laughed as the struggle between them continued. “It’s time to wake up.” She attempted to move again and failed as his strength even at an awkward angle was too much for her._

_He chuckled as she wriggled to free herself from his playful grasp. “This is the last night in Rivain, enjoy it and come back to bed, Yen.” Cullen tried to pout with one eye open._

_“Cullen that looks positively frightening.” She laughed again and cautioned him as he tickled her gently. "Stop it now. I’m warning you, Cullen. You’ll leave me no choice.”_

Alistair smiled from his chair in her quarters. He shook a finger in her direction.  “I know that look.“  Yennelyn shook the memory away and pretended to be interested in a report on her desk. “That will not work with me, my dear. He gets that same faraway look when he talks about you. It’s rather sweet, if he’s not gutting beasts and routing out evil men covered in blood, he’s lost in the memories of you. It’s rather endearing if you think on it,” Alistair offered.

“You can drop the act, Alistair. Cullen has shared much of your history.” Yennelyn smirked and leaned back in her chair. She’d grown tired of Alistair’s playful banter and teasing, she hoped Hawke would lead the mission to retrieve Cullen. Alistair, according to Cullen, would be a ferocious ally; what she saw of him left her concerned as to his strength of leadership and stomach for violence.

He clapped his hands together once and laughed. “One of the best imitations of Cullen I have ever seen! Can you appreciate how _annoying_ I find that bloody smirk of his? Have it your way, Inquisitor. You asked for my help; not to sit and entertain you with my wit and humor.” 

Yennelyn’s smile faded. “I don’t deserve your help.  The thoughts I often had of Cullen running off to answer your wife’s call, I was not kind.”

He understood. Alistair’s jealousy of Cullen could have driven a wedge between them, but it was Solana’s constant reassurances that finally broke through Alistair’s hardened sensibilities. “There was a time when I despised him: his voice, his strength, the natural ability to lead even those whom he’d recently met. That anger and jealousy changed who I was, who I am,” Alistair continued. “Do you know _everything_ that happened?”

She shook her head. “I should have . . . I want to.”

“Morrigan had some fool ritual to create a child of the taint.” Alistair’s bitter tone cut the quiet of the room. “Cullen recently shared everything with both of us. He stopped her, prevented this from happening at the expense of his own happiness.”

Yennelyn sank into her chair. She understood Cullen’s anger with her father and Morrigan; an innocent life given for power. Cullen must have cared for her to let her live and yet without Morrigan she would not have been freed from Razikale. She could not worry of the consequences of meeting Flemeth until Cullen returned.  Yennelyn heard Alistair’s question but did not process the words. “Apologies, I missed your question.”

“Our son, did Cullen tell you we have a son?” Alistair inquired.

Yennelyn shook her head. “I thought . . . a Warden could not- “

“Cullen -  again. He used several of those . . . concoctions of his and let me tell you I . . . _never_ want to feel such pain again; the crux of this tale is both of us were cured.  He took the taint from us both. A deadly gamble, my dear, for us . . . for my future.” Alistair’s emotions normally held behind a wall of jovial teasing and silliness slowly bubbled over. “Without Cullen, Solona’s son, - _my son_ would not have been born.”  Alistair stood and straightened his tunic.  “So you want to know Alistair, the real me and not the idiot king?”

“I’ve offended you and it was not my intention.” Yennelyn offered the start of an apology.

Alistair held up his hand and walked to her desk. “On the contrary, I have offended you and Cullen by wasting time with silly games.”  He leaned on the table his fist balled tight. “When Hawke arrives we will leave.” Alistair’s determined gaze met hers.  “I promise you Yennelyn, I will bring him back or collect every head that comes before me.”  Yennelyn regarded the man in front of her. Everything about the man before her, the conviction in his eyes, the set jaw and sharpness of his words told her she had been wrong.  He understood. Alistair would destroy _anyone_ who stood between him and Cullen.

Yennelyn leaned closer to deliver her message. “Alistair . . . I’d prefer both.”

He pulled away and bowed. “It shall be done, Lady Inquisitor.”

Yennelyn’s eyes brightened as she grinned in malicious delight. “Thank you, your Majesty.”  She curtsied and led him down the stairs to wait for Hawke.

 ___________________________

Alistair paced in the courtyard. “Did she swim from Kirkwall? If that woman is not here by sundown, she can walk.”

Dorian secured the bags filled with Cullen’s potions and varied healing runes with Varric’s help.  “Are you sure you understand the vials, Varric? I’d hoped to have time with Hawke to explain, but my notes will have to suffice.”

Varric leaned closer and whispered. “Relax Sparkler. I’ve got this.” Varric glanced over his shoulder at Alistair. “You want something to worry about? Try his royal testiness over there. I’m telling you Dorian if the Alistair I traveled with all those years ago comes back; you’ll be able to follow the trail of-”

“Varric!” Alistair’s harsh voice cut through their secrets. “We’ve waited long enough. It’s time to go.”

A gust of cold wind wrapped around Yennelyn. _They need Hawke_.  “Your Majesty . . . Alistair, will you wait a little longer? Consider it my request.” She tried to ask for his patience gently looking to Cole for help, but he hung his head. There was nothing he could do to calm Alistair’s anger.

Cole wanted to be a part of the rescue, but Varric and Solas agreed he should remain behind. 

A shrill whistle cut through the courtyard. Yennelyn’s head whipped around. “Cullen!”  He often called Shade in the same manner and although it couldn’t possibly be him; Yennelyn continued to search for the source.

Varric followed the sound as the second call sounded above him. “That’s not Cullen.” He looked up to see Hawke, Anders and Fenris on the walkway up above. 

Dorian called up to Hawke to join him immediately while Yennelyn kept Alistair occupied.  When Hawke and Anders descended the stairs into the courtyard, Fenris joined Yennelyn and addressed Alistair. “You are Ferelden’s King and friend to the Witcher?” 

Alistair nodded.

“Yennelyn, I trust my presence here won’t be a problem,” Fenris asked, wary of the woman he remembered from the final days in Kirkwall.

“Fenris, why _did_ you come with Hawke?” He expected her question. When Yennelyn arrived in Kirkwall Fenris took exception to her presence, her lineage and her magic. She’d intervened on his behalf during the battle and healed his wounds; he swore to repay her kindness.

The sigh that escaped him was part growl and part grumble. “A debt is owed to you and respect for the Witcher,” He said. “What would you have of me?”

“There was never the expectation of payment, Fenris,“  Yennelyn said.

“That may be, but if you insist on _this_ party you will need me.” He nodded towards Hawke and Anders. “Those two are useless together – _mooning into each other’s eyes._ So I am here,” he concluded.

Varric laughed. “It’s nice to see you my broody friend – right to the point as always.”

“Hmm, Varric, I should have guessed. Book sales must have dwindled yet again.” Fenris offered before moving aside to speak with Alistair.

The courtyard filled with different conversations from the informative to the most savage. Dorian reviewed his notes and the vials with Anders and Hawke, instructing Anders on the best magic to help Cullen if time became a factor. Anders listened carefully and could identify the different potions and runes with little error.  Yennelyn and Varric discussed the documents Varric carried, writs and edicts demanding Cullen’s release and letters from several well-connected noble families. She longed to be a part of the hushed discussion between Alistair and Fenris -heads bent in secrecy, the occasional nod from Fenris was evidence enough to his support. She could only guess the imperatives Alistair would share to prepare Fenris for what they could face.  _Save what must be saved and leave the rest to the dirt._  

She caught movement near the portcullis and wondered why Cole walked Shade around slowly leading him towards the main gate.  The two continued their clandestine escape hiding under the guise of a casual walk in the courtyard. Following their meandering path, she bit her lip to hide her discovery and focused her attention elsewhere, glancing over to catch the daring move by Cole. She grinned as Cole seated himself halfway through the entry and Shade casually carried his rider away.

_________________________

 

**The White Spire**

Time means nothing to a Witcher.  Cullen had prepared himself years ago to lose everyone around him before old age found him. His shoulders and arms are numb; the best guess is he’s been chained for a week or two.  The pain is minimal; Cullen just pretends the blows and taunts are painful.  He meditates in the Fade as Solas taught him to do, to speed healing and strengthen his mind.

His journey takes him to Skyhold, vacant and silent.  Cullen can breathe the chilled air and walk untroubled. He climbs the steps the Main Hall and smiles as the fire pits sputter to life.

“Nice place you have here Witcher.” A young girl, dressed in white sits on the Inquisitor’s chair.

“Purpose,” Cullen says, “so much for meditation.”

She giggles in response, “I’m impressed! You remember me, but more so because you _proved me right_.” She jumps down and skips towards him. “The Templar and the Witcher, purpose before pride and now you face a test, Cullen. The Templars are dying. The corruption cannot be stopped. You can rebuild them – with help of course.”

Cullen shakes his head. “No, it’s better to cut out the infection and let the rest heal.”

She frowns and the expression on the young child’s face disturbs him. “I’m afraid it’s far worse than you can imagine. To the north, the Templars can do nothing other than harsh words and blind eyes. In the south, the infestation touches all except one – you.” Purpose waits for Cullen’s response.

“I reject your claim every soul is corrupt. There are Templars within the Inquistion-” Cullen starts.

The vision of Purpose shimmers as her form changes before him to an adult female, her hood falls away to reveal  a formidable warrior scarred in battle. “They follow you - their purpose is clear. This is no simple illness; you will have to destroy much to build the Order without lyrium, without chains and _without_ your Chantry.”

“That part of me is gone, Purpose. I am a Witcher.” Cullen offers. “I am not suited to rebuild the Order.”

Purpose snarls and advances. “Who are you?”

He steps backwards unsure what response she wants. “A Witcher.”

“Your _name_ Witcher. Give it to me!” She pounds her fist on his chest.

He stops her hand from another blow and gently releases it. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford.”  He whispers and sees where Purpose is leading him. “You think because I accept who I once was I could help the Order, is that it?”

The warrior circles around him appearing once again as the young girl. “A path was set for you Witcher; I saw it and walked with you.  Was it set by the Maker?  I can’t even tell you if there truly is one called the Maker in this expanse. But I am here as are you perhaps there is some truth behind your belief.”

The impact of heavy objects against stone draws Cullen’s attention towards the entrance. “This is supposed to be a private meditation, how is it possible for these interruptions?”

Purpose giggles enjoying Cullen’s frustration. “This is the Fade Cullen; you’re on our terms here. I caution you. Be wary of her, she spent far too long in one place and has picked up one rather dangerous attachment – you.”

Cullen spins around to ask more of Purpose only to find empty space amid the increasing blows on the doors.  Dust falls in sheets warning Cullen whatever seeks to breach the hall will destroy Skyhold to enter.  Cullen waits between blows to shout to the intruder. “Come in or leave me to my rest!”

He exhales at the sudden silence until a slow creak and the scrape of an uneven edge cracks open a door that does not exist in the waking world. The wooden doors smash open against the stone walls as a gust of wind reveals another uninvited guest. A solitary figure stands in the entry; a heavy cloak disguises just enough of the figure to confound him; another wind gust reveals a slight frame and hints at curves to convey a feminine form.  The thick fabric billows in a rush of wind as a storm brews in the darkened skies of the Fade. A honeyed voice speaks from beneath the hood, leaving no doubt a woman hides within the fabric folds.

“Would it please you to learn she is free?” The voice resonates through the hall. “Would you consider an exchange?”

“Reveal yourself or I will not continue,” Cullen orders.

“Then I am afraid there is nothing to say, for I cannot reveal what has no form. Your Renae is free; but I am bound and I seek you to grant me the same.”

Cullen shakes his head. “If Yennelyn is free then my contract is concluded. Your path is your own for now.” He strides quickly past the hooded form and makes for the steps.

The wind ceases. “The path before me leads to wrath and ruin.” Her warning is clear.

He does not face the figure. “Then we will see how strong the will of a god truly is, won’t we?”

The howling winds return and do not mask the sounds of the creature emerging behind him. _Razikale_. 

“A final offer Witcher or perhaps a gift; in the future to come I will answer to your call once more. You alone have the freedom to choose when and for what reason. Until then, Witcher.”

Wings slap the air once and take to the skies. Cullen is pushed down the stairs into Skyhold’s courtyard into the face of Purpose once again. “A gift it says. You know the nature of gifts and promises - nothing is ever without cost.”  She brushes the dust from her dress and smiles up at Cullen, a smile filled with secrets.  High in the sky above him the Breach explodes covering Skyhold in an eerie glow signaling the wrath of the heavens. “Once again Witcher, you are to be taken from me before I can have my say. I’m afraid it’s time to wake now, Cullen.”   

______________________

**Somewhere in Thedas**

_Bathed in the glow of the Breach, she speaks to them in turn, of their strengths and their friendships, she tells them where they are headed and what they could face. Each nods their agreement, their covenant to follow her. She turns and faces the gates and asks for his guidance. Not a deity she swears no fealty, no belief - but the man who has walked with her, loved her and fought with her.  She sees him where none can, standing before her shaking his head and smiling, arms crossed. He jerks his head prodding her to move on and finish what she must.  A sudden warmth on her cheek, a shiver and a deep inhale to find his scent. When none is found she rolls her shoulders resolute and ready before she sets out to meet her adversary._

 

______________________

**The White Spire**

“What is wrong with knocking on the bloody door?” Alistair asked.

Varric’s head dropped as he stopped working on the heavy locks on the cellar entrance. “Oh, I don’t know, your Magnificence, maybe we prefer not to alert every Templar in the place to the fact we’re even here?”

“It’s simple.” Alistair knocked on an imaginary door in front of him. “ ‘Oh hello! Yes . . . I _am_ the King of Ferelden - now open the fucking door and move aside!’”  Alistair’s frown faded into a smile as he looked around for agreement.

“If it gets us inside quicker, I’m all for the king’s plan,” Fenris sighed.

“Thanks for your support Broody, there are eight locks. I’ve got one left on this side and the other four over there. If one of you even had the-“  Varric started.

Fenris lifted his broadsword and jumped towards the left door, shattering all but one. “There. Perhaps now we might get inside before we lose the dark?”

“You missed one,” Varric quipped and hurried to open the final lock.

Hawke and Alistair reviewed their plans; she would take Anders to find Cullen while Varric, Alistair and Fenris would work through the tower, looking for evidence of Red Templars and red lyrium.  Once all were in agreement, Varric and Fenris opened the cellar doors to be greeted by a cloud of smoke and Cole’s frantic words.

“They’re all wrong! The whole tower is wrong! I can’t get to him!” Cole cried out and disappeared back into the cellar.

Varric hurried down the steps after Cole. “Kid, slow down, how did you get in? Where’s Cullen?” Varric questioned Cole concerned over his agitated state. Varric couldn’t understand Cole’s need to stay close to Cullen. He’d witnessed several conversations between the two and in every discussion the Witcher gently asked Cole not to delve too deep into the secrets and shadows within Cullen’s memories. Varric guessed Cullen had greater insight into Cole’s connections to others and sought to protect the boy.

Cole shrugged. “The front door, it’s never guarded and always open.“ Cole continued through the cellar and up a small flight of stairs.

Alistair leaned close to Varric. “The front door, what an _excellent_ idea.”

 “Fine. You were right, your Impressiveness – happy?” Varric grumbled at Alistair’s renewed smugness.

Alistair grinned. “Exceptionally, thank you. Cole where is Cullen?”

Cole froze on the steps and did not face the group. “He’s in the Pit. I can’t get there. Too many Red Templars.” Cole continued up the stairs and listened at the door. “The way is clear. When you leave, turn to your left, there is a door, enter and wait.”

“The Pit? Sounds delightful,” Hawke chirped. Her sarcasm dropped away as she took control.  “Change of plans, Cullen first, and _then_ we can clear out the Templars.”  The group agreed and followed Cole to the empty room.

Cole knew every part of the Pit. He’d searched around passageways long flooded and crumbling to find rooms unlocked, most long emptied of their alcohol and wine. Some still held untouched treasures and artifacts, but Cole would steer the party from such distractions. When Cole had wandered the passageways years ago, he’d found many of the routes leading towards the city collapsed or almost entirely flooded. Despite the uninhabited halls and rooms, Cole still avoided one area of the Pit – the dungeons. Memories hung thick in the air, ready to strangle, drown and stab at the sanity of any who dared enter. Hundreds of cells, most unusable would prove a long and costly search. Cole would lead them in the right direction but the Templars would need to be dealt with first.

Hawke waited with Cole and Anders while Alistair, Fenris and Varric entered the Pit. She watched in awe as Cole led Anders through tale after tale of his beloved cat. Each time the sounds of the battle all around them seeped into their hiding space, Cole would pull another memory to captivate Anders into another animated story. She hid her smile at the thought of Justice seething he could not enter the battle. 

The truth was simpler. The Witcher was the one being Justice respected and, to some degree, feared. Cullen promised to find a way to separate Anders from his passenger and Justice hoped to prove he could remain by showing his capacity for restraint.  

Elsewhere, Alistair and Fenris cut down any who stood in the way of their descent into the Pit. Varric hung back from the two as the confined space prevented him from effectively covering the others. He’d taken the tack of moving in stealth to assess each room and return to report his findings.

Alistair would demand Cullen’s location from each Templar they found. Many were in varying stages of red lyrium poisoning and beyond help. Defiance or outright attack met with harsh words and quick steel. On two occasions Varric found himself separated from Alistair and Fenris.  _Follow the trail of blood_ , he told himself and in doing so would find his companions again. Varric lost count of the fallen after the first few dozen.

_____________________

Cole jumped from the table he’d occupied for the last few hours. “They’ve found him, this way!” Cole opened the door and hurried towards the Pit urging Hawke and Anders to move quickly and follow him.

Hawke kept Cole in sight allowing Anders to follow with care to protect the precious vials Cullen would need. Cole continued to call to them to follow him. Hawke’s disbelief at the Red Templar infestation in the Spire slowed her descent; not one body they passed was clear of red lyrium poisoning.  She waited for Anders. “Look at all of them. Not one, not a single one is free from it. Who would do such a thing?”

Anders looked on the face of one of the fallen knights. He was young, but the unmistakable red veins snaking up his neck told Anders he’d been a party to the red perhaps from the beginning. Anders could hear shouting further up the passageway and urged her to keep going. “Let’s find Cullen and leave this place.” She nodded and led Anders towards the commotion.

Varric heard Alistair shout something he couldn’t quite make out; both he and Fenris left him where he stood. 

He heard his name called again from the opposite direction. “Varric!” He was sure it was Hawke and moved towards the sound of her voice. Cole guided Anders away from the commotion and asked him to make sure all the potion vials were unbroken.

“Not one, we can’t lose a single one. Please check them.“ Cole urged Anders to check every vial. Hawke and Varric moved towards the large guard room to find Alistair and Fenris with the Knight-Commander backed into a corner. 

The Knight-Commander spat his words in fear and loathing for those who dared take the Spire. “Ferelden has no meaning here. We may stand in Orlais, but the Empress has no more power than you. This place belongs to the Order.” Alistair grabbed the Knight-Commander and shoved him against the wall.

“Do not take me for a fool. The next words from that corrupt tongue of yours will be the truth or I will end you.” It was true, Alistair stood in Orlais and the Spire belonged to the Order but he did not care. “Where is the Witcher?”

The Knight-Commander glared. “I don’t -“

Alistair drove his blade up through the knight’s chest. He pushed the Templar’s body from his sword and let it drop without remorse.  “Bring me another!”   Alistair’s anger cut through the room.

Hawke paled. This was not the king she remembered. He’d been pushed too far, and she read the fury and determination on his face. He would kill every last man to get to Cullen.

“Oh shit.” Varric turned to Hawke. “We need to find Curly and fast.” Varric looked around the guard room. “Where’s Blondie?”

Hawke shook free of her concerns. “Anders? He was there in the door-” Hawke turned around to see both Anders and Cole gone. “Oh come on! Are you telling me you and me are the only ones who haven’t lost their minds?”

Varric nodded. “Scary, I know. But I’ve seen this side of Alistair before, Hawke. He won’t stop.” He shook his head. “Let’s go. King Cleaver is out of bodies for now. Let’s hope the Kid can keep Blondie focused while they’re looking for Cullen.”

Cole burst into the room and without a second glance at the bodies around him, he waived them to follow. Hawke called out when she spotted Anders ahead of them and continued on to the large cell. She stifled a moan at Cullen’s appearance. Flakes of dried blood caked his face and the stench of earth and filth surprised her. She drew her mouth in a fake smile and hurried to help him. 

 “Ooh, don’t you look pretty my friend,” Hawke said, ducking under Cullen’s shoulder to lift him with her own. “And what an enticing aroma; you need a bath . . . a few of them.” She cringed. Her forced jovial tone and laughter was a sham for his benefit. She hoped Anders could help Cullen before they returned to Skyhold.

“Mm. . . Marion.” Cullen tried to smile.

“Sweet talker - Cullen, you stink. That voice trick will not work.” She called back to the passageway. “A little help here, Cole!”

Cullen shook his head. “No, Marion. He shouldn’t see this.”

Alistair was the first to reach the cell followed by Cole. The king’s shoulders fell at the sight of Cullen and he quickly sheathed his sword. “Cole! The shackles if you would.” Alistair took Cullen’s right side and lifted him up to slacken the chains. “I’d say nice to see you again, old man, but you look horrible.”

Hawke coughed. “Don’t forget the smell.”

“Hey. Tell you what, let’s chain you up for a few weeks and see if you still smell fresh.” Alistair continued. “Not everyone finds your wit and sarcasm appealing, Hawke.”

Hawke groaned and lifted Cullen again to give Cole better access to the cuff on Cullen’s left wrist. “I had to take up the slack for you while you were slaughtering Templars for fun, _your Majesty_.”

Cullen winced as Alistair hoisted his body up for Cole to reach his wrist. “Alistair. Whatever happened to diplomacy and discussion?” Cullen’s attempted humor was cut short by a sharp intake of breath. Cole set a chair for Cullen as Hawke and Alistair helped him sit. “I look worse than I am. Stop fussing,” Cullen said.

Varric hurried in to the cell with Anders. “He’s fine. We’ve got company.”

“Give me a sword.” Cullen pushed himself to stand and rolled his shoulders. Alistair caught the wince of pain as the left shoulder caught.

Anders pointed to the bench. “Not this time, Cullen. Marion and the others will take care of the Templars. I have your potions if you need them and that shoulder may be dislocated.” Anders erected a barrier between them and the passage. Fenris would stand guard at the passageway leading to Cullen’s cell. Anders winked and smiled. “All right kitty cat, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Cullen chuckled. “I’ll humor you this time since you’re helping me.”

“You’re lucky He likes you so much, Cullen. I won’t lie; it’s difficult to keep Him away,” Anders offered as a pale glow emanated from his hands. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

Cullen felt the healing magic spread through him and the pain dulled. “Whenever you are.”

Anders directed Cullen to lay as flat as he could on the large bench. “Anders, just pull it. This isn’t the first time.” Cullen bent his arm at the elbow and waited.

_________________

“Hey, Alistair! Leave a few for the rest of us!” Varric called out. Alistair battled two Templars with Cole. The pair worked well with the king sending his foe backwards into Cole whose strikes were quick and precise; they’d dispatched five of the corrupted Templars and advanced further up the passageway.

“Perhaps you should stop playing with toys and help, Varric!” Alistair continued his charge up the stairwell.

Varric shook his head and followed with Hawke right behind. “Keep your magic barrier on Alistair, Hawke - at least until we get out of the stairwells. I can’t cover him at all!” 

__________________

The next hour Anders spent healing Cullen. Fenris found Cullen’s gear in the guard room and both helped him dress in his armor but Fenris refused to give Cullen his swords, instead fastening Cullen’s harness to his own back.

“We should take the Witcher and return to the horses. The journey to Skyhold will be slow given his condition,” Fenris stated. He hoped to push the horses to hasten their return. The king would be fine with Hawke, Varric and the boy.

Cullen took a moment to balance on his feet. His shoulder would heal soon enough, but Cullen’s loyalties would not allow him to leave without Alistair. “No, it’s time to end this.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have followed this story, your comments and encouragement have kept this going.  
> My deepest gratitude to Replica_Jester and felandaris for their continued support, fantastic ideas and greatly appreciated beta work.


	22. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fate of the White Spire must be decided while Yennelyn waits for news about Cullen.

 

“A moment of sanity please, old man. You wish to invoke the Right of Annulment?  Cullen, perhaps your time here has addled your brain, but this is not a tower filled with renegade mages and we are not Templars in our sworn duty. I seem to remember you and Sol talking me out of this very thing when Uldred went mad in the Circle Tower.” Alistair didn’t like Cullen’s suggestion. There was still the matter of Ferelden’s King on Orlesian soil and to raze the tower without sanction from the Chantry or alerting the Empress could have grave consequences for them all.

Cullen’s eyes pierced through Alistair. “The Right of Annulment can only be invoked by whom?”

Alistair paced as he tried to follow where Cullen was leading them. “A test? Fine. Yes, the Right can only be invoked by a Grand Cleric and unless Varric here is also a Grand Cleric we’re fresh out.”

The Witcher shook his head. “If you paid attention more than you tried to get laughs, you’d recall the answer. If there is no access to any one in the Chantry hierarchy, then it falls to the Knight-Commander of the Order. He holds the legal right to decide to invoke the Right.”  Cullen leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms. “Let me put it this way, your Majesty. Who in their infinite wisdom made me Commander of the Inquisition’s armies and made it known I was Templar?”

“Oh, shit.” Hawke clamped her hand to her mouth to cover her interruption.

Varric laughed. “Well, your Eminence, he’s got you there. It’s close enough. The Chantry is a mess, there’s no one in authority. These Templars no longer even qualify as Templars, the red stuff has messed them up so much. Curly here needs a legal reason to torch the place. I’m no expert but I’d say this qualifies.”

“Varric, the Right of Annulment is permission for Templars to kill mages in times of extreme unrest or eminent danger. These are not mages and you are stretching the law to fit your remedy, Cullen.  As for paying attention, I do recall well enough the Knight-Commander still must wait for approval before he can act.”

Fenris joined the discussion. “Your Majesty, if I may, while you are correct - the Templars within have turned against the Chantry, the people and the Order itself. Does this not qualify as extreme unrest and imminent danger? I would say yes. As I am not bound to these laws I will carry out this act. Witcher, take the mages and the boy and leave.”

“Fenris, there is no reason for us to leave,” Hawke offered, “I will stay.” She couldn’t leave him to do this alone.

Crossing to intercept her, Cullen held Hawke back. “Marion, you can’t be a part of this. Fenris knows this, neither of you.” Cullen met Anders’ eyes. “We’d be back where all of this started if either of you help.”

The underlying meaning behind Cullen’s words gripped Anders. “Marion, the mages would be blamed for the destruction of the Spire and the fighting could intensify. We can’t.”

“Hey Kid,” Varric started, “Is anyone inside still alive? Man or animal? I don’t care if it’s a tiny little mouse.”

Cole stood still and looked up at the tower. His answer was barely audible to all of them except for Cullen. “No. The Spire is dead.”

Varric and Fenris entered the tower to prepare.

  Alistair’s silence hadn’t gone unnoticed. Cullen pulled him aside. “I know the idea disturbs you, my friend; you saw the corruption inside. We can’t let it thrive. You’ve read the reports from Kirkwall, it will take at least a year to clear the Gallows of the red lyrium and the area had to be sealed off. No one is immune to it - eradicating the crystals takes it toll. Do we risk the same exposure here or destroy the Spire?”

Alistair recalled the reports. All over the Marches, the cleanup of red lyrium from the cities had left sick and dying workers. Solona had worked with ambassadors from all over Thedas to find safe ways to remove the crystals.

“You take me for a fool, old man. You and Yennelyn are immune. Sol believes it was a part of whatever rites were done when she was birthed and what of you?” Alistair sighed.

Cullen looked around before speaking. “I’m not immune to the red, but the effects are  . . . different. I can’t be corrupted.”

His eyes widened before sadness took him. The thought of losing his friend after so many escapes, so many obstacles overwhelmed him. Alistair never entertained the thought of Cullen’s mortality.  He gripped Cullen’s shoulder and whispered. “Say you are joking; Maker’s breath, why didn’t you tell me?” The intensity of Alistair’s concerns threatened to raise his voice and reveal too much to their companions.  He balled his fist and tapped Cullen’s chest. “What can I do?”

“I wouldn’t dig a hole just yet.” Cullen laughed and shook Alistair’s shoulders. The confusion at Cullen’s sudden laughter stunned Alistair.

Cole stepped between them his raspy voice further masked by his elongated wide-brimmed hat. “He cannot be taken, but he is himself again. He remains a Witcher, but with purpose.“  Cole lifted his head to meet Cullen’s smiling face.

 Alistair narrowed his eyes. “Cole, is it? I’m not well versed in this cryptic speak that you and my friend here seem to use - so for the benefit of the unenlightened, would one of you please explain?” Alistair leaned away from Cullen and crossed his arms. Cullen could see the muscles in Alistair’s forearms constrict and release repeatedly leading him to guess he was looking at one very annoyed king. 

Cullen led Alistair further away from the group.  The others talked oblivious to the conversation until Alistair shouted.

“No! But I -“ Alistair’s boisterous voice was cut short as Hawke whistled to get their attention. Cullen and Alistair turned away and continued in private.

Alistair shook his head. “So red lyrium helped you? Old man, you can’t be serious. We have to destroy it. I want every last bit out of Ferelden.”

“Relax, Alistair. All I’ve discovered so far is I can use my old Templar skills; it might prove helpful.” Cullen smirked. “You thought I was dying, didn’t you? Alistair, I’m touched. I might even cry.”

Alistair shook his fist in Cullen’s face and fought to keep his volume down. “You are an insufferable pain in the ass, Cullen.”

“Seconded,” Hawke added, “if you boys are done with your little tea party can we light this place up and get out of here?” Varric waved his arms again from the entrance waiting for direction.

Alistair turned on his heel to face Hawke. “I don’t remember inviting you to our little gathering, Hawke.”

She pursed her lips and tapped her foot.  “Listen up, _your Majesty_ , I expect lip from Cullen, he knows how to piss me off. This isn’t your castle or your kingdom and I’m really fucking tired. So finish whatever this _little gathering_ is and let’s get out of here.” 

“Hawke’s got a point there, Alistair. You talk too much.” Cullen laughed and clapped Alistair on the back staggering him forward.  “You might want to work on that balance; you’re getting a little soft.”

“Oh no, this is not pick on Alistair time.”  Alistair wagged his finger at Cullen. “Might I remind you who needed rescuing this time?”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “As opposed to all the other times where I was helping you – what are we up to now? At last count – I’m curious, you understand.”

“BOYS!” Hawke’s shout stopped their fun. “At the risk of being detained either as a royal prisoner or by the Inquisition, the next words I want to hear from either of you had better be ‘light it’ or I’ll freeze you both to your smallclothes!” 

Alistair and Cullen looked at one another and laughed before turning back to Hawke. “Light it,” they said in unison.

Her anger prevented her usual sarcasm and she muttered to herself as she stomped away from Cullen before she yelled to Varric to set the tower aflame.

Cole promised to follow Cullen and the others eventually, but he asked to stay behind. There were those he wanted to see home.

_________________________________________

Yennelyn tired of waiting. She tired of watching the pass for Cullen’s return. Alistair was safely returned to Denerim, Leliana received word of his arrival, yet there had been no word or sightings of Cullen. She sent out search party after party with no results. Now two weeks overdue, Yennelyn could not dismiss the dread that rose with her every morning.

She woke to find Dorian standing at the fireplace and covered her night dress with the sheet. “Dorian, what in the Void are you doing in my quarters while I sleep?”  She hurried to the changing screen and dressed while she continued to admonish him. “Your friendship with Cullen does not give you full rights to my privacy no matter what he may have asked of you. Dorian, are you listening to me?”

She stepped out from the behind the screen to something she did not expect. The deep tracks of tears that flowed on Dorian’s face pulled a shiver from within her. She hurried to him and took his hands in hers. “Forgive me, is it your father? Your mother?  Dorian please let me help you.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came forth. His eyes, downturned and filled with tears each spilling their sorrow down his face gripped her heart. “Please tell me what is wrong?”

His voice was odd, strained as though words hurt to speak aloud. “My lady. Yennelyn. I. . .” Dorian switched to Tevene and spoke rapidly, Yennelyn remembered the words. Condolences, expressions of grief and sorrow.

“Dorian, tell me what happened? Do you need me to travel with you?” Yennelyn tried to push away what notion was brewing in her head. She dropped his hands and stepped back. “Those words… are they. . .for me?” A shudder wracked her body, and she shook her head. “If it is my father you weep for, your sorrow is misplaced.” 

His breath caught as he tried to inhale. “Yennelyn, I can’t seem to say his name.”

She turned and fell on her hands against the desk. The pain a momentary diversion as the truth congealed. “Cullen?” She gulped in air hoping for the right word from Dorian.

Only it wasn’t a word. Dorian’s hoarse voice croaked, “I’m so sorry . . .so very sorry.”

Yennelyn shook her head violently and wheeled on him. “No. No! Whatever sick joke the two of you are playing, whatever you hope to motivate me to do, this is the worst thing you have EVER done. Get out. GET OUT!”

Dorian reached out to her, but Yennelyn slapped his face. “How do you dare, Dorian?”

He grabbed her shoulder and resisted the urge to shake her from her anger. “Listen to me, Yennelyn. Cullen is gone.” He released his grip as his head fell forward. “Hawke, Anders and Cullen were returning from Denerim when they were attacked.  Caer Oswin. We were supposed to clear it out but didn’t. Leliana sent a message to Denerim and Cullen . . . but Hawke . . . was injured too and- “

Struggling out of Dorian’s arms, Yennelyn nearly fell down the steps as she ran. Varric attempted to block her path, but she deftly moved around him.

Varric tried to catch her attention but he could only follow her frantic path down the stairs. 

She could not accept Dorian’s words and tried to fight the increasing dread but when she saw Bull’s hulking form blocking the infirmary door talking with Leliana, her legs wobbled. _She never comes out here._ The truth slowly congealed in her head and she stumbled.

Varric grabbed her elbow to help her. “Easy there, Princess. Let’s go back to the hall.”

She wrenched free and hurried to speak with Bull.

The rising bile burned her throat when Bull wouldn’t meet her eyes, his large frame blocking the door to the infirmary.   “They all tried. Anders, Dorian, the surgeon – sorry doesn’t fit here, but he was- “

“Move! He’s not gone!” Yennelyn’s shrill voice cut the silence in the courtyard.

Bull kept his voice low and calm.  “I’ll be right here.”

The frown on Leliana’s face and furrowed brow were the only signs of the Spymaster’s emotions. “Hawke and Anders have been moved to the quartermasters. We’ll be here for you, Inquisitor. Take your time.”

The door held open by Bull cast a strange light in the infirmary. She lit the torches inside and gasped at the sight in front of her. “Cullen? Cullen, please stop messing about. You’ve done this to me before you know and it’s not funny.”

_His hand slid to her hip, fingertips to her belly. “Cullen, can we enjoy the sun without you trying to relieve me of my clothes?”_

_His laugh, low, rumbling and seductive made her stomach flip and her heart speed up. “Hmm, sounds like hollow words, Yen.  Come with me to the water.” He crawled closer using his beard to trace a path up her skin coaxing a shiver and sigh. He stopped and nipped at her earlobe. “Let’s see how long I can hold my breath. I promise to be on my best behavior,” he turned her chin towards him, “unless you’d prefer if I wasn’t.” A sly grin and wandering hand was met with a quick jolt of magic from her._

_“Don’t you ever think about anything else when we’re alone?” She closed her eyes again._

_She’d surrender to his whims if he continued much longer. His laughter revealed he knew her thoughts. “No and neither do you, Yen.” He threw off his tunic and dropped it over her._

_She shrieked as cloth and sand covered her. Pulling off the discarded tunic, she glimpsed him step out of his smalls and run into the surf diving beneath the surface._

_“Bastard. He assumes just because he strips down I will run after him.” She stood and brushed the rest of the sand from her shift. Yennelyn shielded her eyes from the glare and looked up at Ana’s family villa. Her clan was one of the wealthiest in Rivain, but when they took extended sea voyages for trade, the villa sat relatively empty. Illeana had asked Cullen to watch over the villa and those left behind. The thought of Cullen turned her thoughts back to the sea._

_At first, she noted Cullen was lying in the surf relaxing in the afternoon sun, until the first wave rolled upon the beach and the surf pulled his body with it into the water. “Cullen,” she called out, he had a habit of losing his sensibilities and playing like a small boy if the mood suited him.  Another wave and his body washed up into the sand. She gasped and ran, struggling to keep her balance in the mix of sand and rocks._

_Cullen lay face down, unmoving. She struggled to lift his face out of the oncoming surf and sputtered as the wave crashed over them. Yennelyn primed her magic and bent to listen for his breath. She screamed as he nipped at her ear and laughed._

Her own fingernails cutting into her hand from clenching her fists broke her reverie and the harsh vision of Cullen’s prone body lay before her. She bent over him and placed her ear near his mouth and waited. Resting her hand gently on his chest, she stayed hunched over him as the first tears dropped to his tunic. Yennelyn kept her awkward position hoping he would reveal another silly game to gain her attention.  Only when her muscles cramped painfully did she sit back in the chair. She stayed with Cullen until the sun hid her tears as they fell.

_She’d insisted on the inn in Cumberland instead of sleeping in a tent. Yennelyn leaned against Cullen’s strong chest using his arms to keep her warm. “So what you are telling me is you will outlive me?”_

_Cullen attempted to avoid discussions about the future with her for this reason. The short answer was yes, he would outlive her, his aging process had slowed considerably and he would live far longer than she. “Yen, is it really important right this moment?” He attempted to pull her closer._

_She shifted and scooted further away. “This is important to me Cullen; how long do we have together?”_

_“I can promise you one thing Yen.”  He pulled her back into his arms and covered her gently with the bed sheet. “For you, I will be there whenever you need me. Now and always.”_

“Liar,” she sobbed into her hands as his promise faded.

Yennelyn hadn’t heard Dorian enter, but he pulled a chair next to hers and slumped down. “I confess. I tried everything. Even things I should not have tried.”

 “Dorian, you didn’t,” she hissed, “you can’t pull someone back. Not even. . .” She stopped, “I apologize. I would have done the same.”

Yennelyn laughed and wiped the tears from her face.

“What crossed your mind – just then?” Laughter from Yennelyn at this moment was not expected.

She patted his hand twice and stood, running her fingers through Cullen’s hair. Her fingers traced along his jawline to his lips. She kissed him gently before turning back to glance at Dorian. “He said we could fight one another when he was gone. So, duel at sunrise?”  She laughed again until her tears flowed anew.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, Dorian stood with Yennelyn in silence. Her vision narrowed and Yennelyn gripped at Dorian’s arm as her awareness faded. The encroaching darkness in her vision made her sway for a moment before she collapsed. 

________________________

“Inquisitor, can you hear me?” Cassandra voice wafted into Yennelyn’s perception. “Quickly, bring water and find Dorian!”

Yennelyn heard the exertion of a few trying to help her up. She opened her eyes to different surroundings. “How did I get back here?”  She focused on the largest object in front of her to see Bull’s face take shape.

“Shit, would you let me do this?” He moved Cassandra out of the way and lifted Yennelyn with little effort, placing her on her bed. He leaned in and whispered, “Never knew a Vint could fall out of bed, thought you people floated or something.” He winked and moved away.

Cassandra chased Bull away. “I apologize, Yennelyn. I came to bring you the news when I found you on the floor. Dorian should arrive soon if you need aid.”

She would continue the charade for him. “What news, Cassandra?”

“My lady, the Spire, the White Spire – it burns,” she started, “Cullen returns on the Imperial Highway.”

Yennelyn felt the blood rush from her face as she stood suddenly shaken by Cassandra’s words. The Seeker rushed forward to help.

“Are you unwell? I thought you’d be pleased to learn we have recovered Cullen.” Cassandra wondered what was keeping the mage.

 _Was it a vision - a sign?_  She searched her recollection now fading from memory. “Caer  Oswin! Cullen mustn’t go!”

“There is nothing there, Inquisitor.” Cassandra approached Yennelyn cautiously. “We cleared it with the help of Bull’s Chargers. Caer Oswin is empty. I haven’t had time to file the report. How did you know?”

“Are we sharing secrets?” Dorian asked, crossing to Yennelyn’s chaise.

“Stop it Dorian.” Yennelyn’s mood soured, not from his entrance but at the disturbing nature of her vision.

“If you will excuse me, Inquisitor.” Cassandra’s shifting feet and glances towards the staircase did not hide her wish to leave before the Inquisitor’s mood deepened.

Yennelyn remained silent until Cassandra descended the stairs and closed the door. “Dorian, I saw Cullen dead. Cassandra says the mission is over, but he has to get away from here. I won’t let the Inquisition have him.”

“A dream, Yennelyn, not a vision. Cullen has survived far worse than what Thedas has thrown at him thus far. The Fade spit him back out, remember that. “

“You don’t understand,” she stood and paced the floor, “everything I saw: Kirkwall, Orlais, Haven, Skyhold – they have happened. This will happen, it is a vision. Maybe not this Caer Oswin, but this is a warning, he needs to leave, Dorian.”

_____________________________

Cullen and Alistair took to friendly teasing on the road back to the mountains, only a few more hours before Skyhold would be in sight.

“Listen old man, about Yennelyn – she’s not what I expected. I’m actually a little surprised,” Alistair said, “I’m wondering how one man can find two women in all of Thedas with the most, how should I say it. . .unique personalities. One a complete _bitch_ and the other no less scary but utterly charming.”  Alistair grinned and waited.

Cullen did not change his expression. “So, you and Morrigan finally stopped bickering?”

The laugh that exploded out of Alistair startled his mount. “Ha! Oh, that’s rich. Remember, my friend, you were the one that bedded her. I had more than enough sense to avoid that nasty beast.”

“That would be a _no_ then,” Cullen deadpanned.

“All right, in truth Yennelyn really wasn’t what I expected. Although I’m not quite sure what I expected, tentacles or pointed teeth, but when Flemeth took the Old God from her, she seemed so vulnerable.”

Cullen pulled on Shade’s reins. The horse stopped and shifted from leg to leg, picking up his rider’s sudden change in mood. Cullen had to be sure.  Alistair had tried to share his experience in the Fade on the journey, but Cullen imagined Yennelyn would prefer to explain what transpired. Alistair’s admission troubled him.   _Flemeth has the soul? Flemeth? Then she is not human, as Solona once surmised,_ he recalled _._

_“Cullen, surely you can see it?” Solona pleaded with him. Alistair dismissed the notion that Flemeth was not entirely human._

_He wanted to support her, friendship demanded it. Alistair had a habit of grating on Cullen’s usual calm to the point where he wondered if anyone would notice if Alistair disappeared. Cullen was no fool, even without Zevran’s constant reminders of the difference between the two of them; he knew Alistair wished Cullen would leave them. Solona was the reason he stayed._

_“I have to side with Alistair, Sol,” Cullen conceded, “Flemeth is a witch, a powerful one, but human.”_

_Wynne glared at him, knowing the lie that fell from his lips. She hung back to talk with him. “I find it curious you would side with young Alistair. It is perhaps because of Morrigan you wish to keep us away from her mother? You see so much beneath the surface of us. Why lie now?”_

_“The same reason I do not tell the others about your passenger, Wynne. There are secrets best left to their keeper,” Cullen did not hide his frown. She was worse than Dorian in her constant need to lecture and comment on behavior. “In the eyes of the Wardens there are two of us here who bear the mark of Abomination.”_

_Wynne clasped her hands in front of her. “But there is only one of us who has accepted that mark. Isn’t that right, Cullen?”_

_Cullen exhaled and ignored the irritation Wynne carried with every word she spoke.  “None of you are ready to face whatever Flemeth is and that is the truth. I will return and get the grimoire for Morrigan and the lie will fall to me alone unless of course you wish to die today?”_

_Wynne’s subtle smugness melted, and she smiled. “Your point is well spoken, Witcher, the Wardens must complete their task. Please forgive an old woman and her meddling.”_

Cullen remembered his conversation with Flemeth.

“ _Take the book and give it to her and then leave. There is nothing but pain if you remain with her,” Flemeth said._

_“Then Morrigan is human, not the creature you led her to believe.” Cullen tried to look beyond Flemeth’s human trappings._

_“That’s quite far enough, Witcher. Any closer and you and I would find a very different end.” Flemeth lifted her hand, twisted and turned her fist. Cullen found he could not move, and he struggled against the magic holding him in place. “There are forces at work in Thedas that you are not prepared to face. I am one of them. Another time, another place – perhaps we will face each other; there is but one path before you now, take the book and leave my daughter.”_

He’d given Flemeth his word and in doing so consigned Morrigan to the bitterness of her life alone.

Alistair rode on until he noticed he was alone. Turning his mount around, he stopped and stared at his friend. “Everything all right? Why have we stopped?” Alistair asked.

Shade turned around trying to settle his rider. “Alistair, are you sure you didn’t misunderstand? _Flemeth_ took the Old One? Tell me precisely what she said.”

_____________________________

A thought had been simmering in Dorian’s head for some time and he believed this might be the perfect time to test his theory. Grabbing a parchment from Yennelyn’s desk, he tore the parchment into three strips and handed them to her. “Fix this, would you?”

Her eyes widened at the request, she’d not used her time magic since Kirkwall. “Dorian, it’s not a good idea, I could – well I could hurt you and demolish much of this room.”

 “No, my dear you won’t,” he continued, “I have a little theory that your visions and _time magic_ as you called it was your little tag along passenger.” He nodded towards her hand. “If you please Inquisitor, fix the parchment.” She nodded. “Would you prefer that I guide you?”

“I’m not a novice, Dorian.” Yennelyn rolled her eyes. Priming magic wasn’t difficult; Yennelyn had learned the skill when she was young. A mage uses the Fade to shift reality allowing it to be redesigned to the will of the mage. Tevene children learn to grip an imaginary sphere in their hands and feel the mana surge around it. For Yennelyn, this was instantaneous.

“Excellent! Your teachers must have been very proud,” he quipped, “before I freeze in this ice tower you call your quarters, perhaps we can get on with it? You might close the doors to make your guests more comfortable. "

She glanced at Dorian and focused on the parchment. “Careful Dorian, you don’t want me to slip and blemish that pretty face of yours.” She smirked and continued her task.

 “I’d expect that sort of sass from Cullen.  You are spending far too much time with our friend, my dear; you’re even starting to smirk like him.” Yennelyn’s laughter subsided to concentrate on the parchment in front of her.

 After the third attempt; Yennelyn squelched the magic in her hand and looked to Dorian for explanation.  The magic should have worked given the strength of the mana she pulled. She stared at her hand waiting for it to reveal the answer.

There was no denying the confusion on her face, Dorian sat down and waited. When she turned to face him, Dorian held her hand.  “Let me be the first to congratulate you. You are now as imperfect as the rest of us.”

Shaking her head in feigned disbelief, Yennlyn teased him. “Did you admit that you might not be as perfect as once thought?”

“Spread any vile rumors outside of this room and we will have our little duel.”  Dorian teased, “So, _Princess_ , what now?”

__________________________

Hawke and Anders would see Alistair to Denerim safely. Cullen followed their descent to the mountain basin until he could no longer see their horses. “What do say, Shade? Do we travel up the path or keep going?” The horse pulled up towards the mountain path and in doing so answered his rider. Cullen stopped Shade and jumped down.  “Come on, I can walk.” The horse pushed against Cullen’s shoulder and continued on.

The silence of the afternoon on mountain pass allowed his mind to wander. He inhaled the brisk air and caught the faintest scent of her. “Wishful thinking.”  Shade pushed Cullen hard causing him to stumble. “See you, Shade.” Cullen took off running. Shade was used to getting left behind, he knew his way back.

___________________________

 “It’s done – but I still have the Anchor? What happens now?”  Yennelyn’s uncertainty filled her thoughts. Until now every step; every path she needed to take had been revealed through her magic and Cullen followed her without question.

“If this were a children’s tale,” he slapped his hands to his thighs and stood, “he’d ride up on that horrible mount of his carrying the head of some rare beast by its ears as a gift.”

_Cullen crossed the courtyard, confident strides leading him towards the main staircase. His path through the main hall was swift and none stood in his way._

She shook her head at Dorian’s tale, but said nothing allowing him to continue.

“Cullen would deftly maneuver around his many female admirers and take the steps swiftly to the main hall only to claw and push his way through the parasites in the main hall to find you. He’d bring a bouquet of your favorite flowers.” Dorian broke his performance and leaned in. “What is your favorite flower?”

“Dawn lotus,” she offered.

“Dawn lotus? With all the fantastic blooms from all over Thedas you choose a swamp flower?”

She smiled. “Yes - a swamp flower, Dorian. Only Cullen would wade through the undead to bring me a single bloom here in the south. There are other places where it grows in the North, but it will always be my favorite.”

He shook his head. “We need to get you back to civilization, my dear. Where was I?”

“Cullen is clawing his way through the main hall,” prompted Yennelyn.

“He’d take the stairs two at a time rushing to hold you in his arms.” Dorian paused.

She stood. A strange pull from her chest sped her breathing. A scuff of a boots in the hall outside her door, a creak of hinges and wood and Yennelyn hurried to the railing.

 Cullen looked up to find her staring at him. “I was waiting for Dorian to stop his prattling.” His eyes grabbed hers and held tight a promise of what was to come.

Dorian waved Cullen’s comment away as though a bug has buzzed the room. “I do _not_ prattle, Cullen. But, I will leave the lady in your capable hands and take my leave.” He bowed in such an exaggerated fashion; Yennelyn struggled to hold her laughter.

“Dorian, wait!” Yennelyn met him on the stair and offered her hand.

He raised an eyebrow, wondering what she expected but took the offered hand.

Clasping his hand in hers, she gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Your secret is safe, so I believe we can postpone the duel for now.”

He laughed and nodded in agreement. “We’ll save that for a rainy day, my dear.” Dorian strolled down the stairs. “You - behave, my friend,” he said passing Cullen and closing the door behind him.

Cullen took the remaining steps deliberately one at time. “Did you miss me, Yen?”

She waited for him on the top step. “I knew you wouldn’t betray the Inquisition. You couldn’t leave me for Corypheus. He’s gone, by the way.”

His eyes never left her. “I heard. I never doubted you, Yen. But you still haven’t answered my question.” Joining her on the top step, Cullen lifted her chin towards him and smiled as she closed her eyes. His lips hovered over hers as he whispered, “did you miss me?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to felandaris for the fantastic beta work! Thank you to Replica_Jester and Spiritlock for the idea exchange and indulging me. One chapter remains in this story arc and I want to say thank you to all of you who have stuck with this, commented, enjoyed and given me the chance to have a little fun with a crazy idea.


	23. Unsettled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Breach is sealed, Corypheus is defeated and Cullen returns to Yennelyn in Skyhold. A perfect ending to their journey. Unless you're a Witcher. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild, brief NSFW at the start of the chapter.

_My Yen_. He’d murmured several times into her ear and each time he jolted her nerves -  a soft strum of delight. Yennelyn leaned back and closed her eyes trying to catch her breath. She heard him laugh and felt his fingers gently parting her thighs. Shaking her head, she struggled to beg him to wait to give her more time.

“Didn’t quite get that, Yen. Seems I’m not doing things right if you can talk.” Cullen whispered and laughed again as he slid his fingers deeper.

Betrayed by her body her hips bucked to assert the demand for more and surrendered to his touch.

Cullen spoke simply of desire and need. Each word caressed her. Enveloped her. _My Yen._ Body arching towards him, she could only nod.

She fell against him, heart pounding the strum within her slowly waning.  Holding her close he whispered, “Better?”

______________________

When Yennelyn opened her eyes searching for Cullen, small signs confirmed what she’d guessed – Cullen had left sometime recently. She pulled his pillow to her face and let the last lingering scent of him lull her back to sleep.

He’d given Yennelyn until sunrise without interruption; even though he preferred to stay with her, the early morning would see the garden empty except for Morrigan. Yennelyn’s accounting of the Well of Sorrows, the exchange with Flemeth in the Fade and Cullen’s conversations with Purpose and Razikale forced his path to the garden at dawn.

Morrigan paced the swath of grass in the center of the garden. She felt his stare upon her and his disappointment; she wondered if ignoring him might convince him to leave. There was no affection in his attention; she sensed something so visceral she worried Cullen would attack her to draw out her mother. To dissuade any actions against her she called out to him.

“’Twould be a shame to waste such a morning on bloodshed Cullen.”  Trying to find him hidden in the morning shadows proved difficult.  

Cullen stepped out into the sunlight. “I’m not here to hurt you Morrigan, no doubt it might call Flemeth; but I won’t risk Skyhold and those innocents here, but you _will_ help me find your mother. I would prefer without force.” Cullen held up his hands to show he meant no harm. “The Eluvian rests where?” Yen revealed it stood in an anteroom but hoped for Morrigan’s cooperation.

She swallowed hard. His question, respectfully delivered, demanded an answer.  She pointed to the door to her left. “Tis there.” Caution guarded her steps towards him. “Cullen the Eluvian - ‘tis useless without the key.”

The grumble she heard from his throat sounded more growl and less amicable. “Then give me the key, Morrigan and the means to travel through the Eluvians.”

She shifted on her feet and fidgeted. _Morrigan never fidgets_.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I serve her now - Mother,” her head dropped, “Mythal.” Her wide eyes and quickened breathing told the rest. “You – above all others can imagine what troubles me. To be bound, beholden to her . . . Cullen, if there is a way, find it. Free me; I cannot abide what is to come. Wrath and ruin, Cullen, the voices - they warned me. If you can look beyond the things I have done, the failings of my human heart, would you protect me as you have done so many others?” She hugged herself and this act of frailty troubled him.

 _The fear is real_ , he thought, _wrath and ruin - the same words Razikale used. Flemeth - Mythal is loose and I will have to find her and face much more than just a spiteful witch._

Morrigan took another step towards him. “’Tis my fault, I knew the danger inherent in the Well.”

Cullen shook his head. “Morrigan, the problem here is you didn’t think. This isn’t a possession or a curse I can break. You are bound to Mythal’s will.” He ran his hand through his hair to hide his frustration, his hands clenched and he closed the distance between them. _Morrigan helped Yen_ , he reminded himself.  He could abandon no one to this fate, not even Morrigan.  “This is – just give me the key to the Eluvians. I can’t free you, but I can find your mother.” Cullen turned his back to her and stood still.

“A moment Cullen,“ she tried to draw him to continue their conversation.

“Find your own strength Morrigan, I won’t carry you. I don’t care how you do it:  make a talisman, charge a rune, or make a fucking deal with a demon. Make those portals open for me.” He left her in the garden.

___________________________

“He can save Thedas without breaking a sweat, but he’s a slob.” Yennelyn laughed picking up the mess in her room.  She righted the upended chairs and tried to recall how they’d made such a mess and left the desk intact. Papers strewn everywhere, she hurried to gather them before someone else saw the result of their night together. Placing the papers on her desk, a single folded sheet rested on her desk chair.  She found it strange in all the chaos to have this chair untouched and a slip of paper placed so perfectly upon the seat.

“Bastard. You left again, didn’t you?” She hissed as she snatched the note from the seat. Opening the folded parchment, she laughed at its message:

_Sleep well?_

_-C_

She heard Cullen’s voice in her head and her body hummed in anticipation. Yennelyn hurried around the room to finish her task. She’d find him as soon as she was able.

____________________________

Cullen rolled his neck and shoulders to forget about Morrigan and Flemeth. Taking a deep breath, he stiffened when a familiar voice interrupted his quiet moment.

“Curly! Just the Witcher I’ve been looking for all morning.” Varric smiled and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Before you sigh or growl my friend, this is business as in you’ll be paid – and you’ll be happy to hear it’s legal. I think.”

Everything Varric did was completely legal until it wasn’t. Cullen led Varric across the main hall into the rotunda knowing it would be unoccupied.

“Talk fast Varric, I’m busy.” Cullen hoped to spend more time with Yen; if Morrigan opened the way to the Eluvians, he’d need to leave soon.

The plan was straightforward; building supplies from Orlais would arrive in Kirkwall in a month or two once Varric had all the contracts in place. If Cullen was available, Varric wanted his help to protect those supplies until the repair crews could unload them.

“This seems easy enough. If I’m around when you get word, I’ll go. If not, talk to Bull and have the Chargers take care of it.” Cullen couldn’t commit to anything until he talked with Morrigan again.

Varric had grown accustomed to Cullen’s disappearances, as he usually appeared when needed most. “Going somewhere, my friend?”

Cullen grinned and ushered Varric out of the rotunda without answering his question.

Solas’ magic signature still lingered in the room and he wanted to commit the elf to memory given his disappearance. He wondered aloud if Solas had returned to the Arbor Wilds in search of Abelas when Dorian joined him.

“I will admit the thought crossed my mind,” Dorian offered, “but it was the way he left – Yennelyn shared his words.  He spoke of his deep respect for her and of you.  I can only assume you will add Solas to the ever- growing list of quests.”

Nodding in agreement, Cullen gestured for Dorian to lead the way back to the library as they spoke. “How long will you stay, Dorian?” Cullen asked as they continued up the stairs.

“A few of us will stay behind to help. Yennelyn cannot return to Tevinter until the remaining rifts are closed. The larger concern is her safety in Minrathous without _you_ , Cullen. We need assurances. The Archon is aware she lives, and he knows you protect her.” Dorian tried to sum up the current political climate but Cullen couldn’t listen to Dorian’s accounting of the current factions.   Yennelyn’s safety dominated his thoughts, overwhelming him.

Navigating the politics and back alley dealings in Minrathous without Yennelyn guarded at all times would open her up to assassination attempts, abduction or coercion in all its forms. Cullen could not allow her to go back without him. “The sooner the rifts are closed and whatever outstanding contracts are completed, we can return.” Dorian left Cullen at the top step to return to the library. Cullen paused and leaned on Leliana’s desk. “All right, Lil, do your worst.”

___________________

Yennelyn stepped out into the main hall. Spotting Varric scribbling away at the table, she wondered if Cullen had passed through or wandered outside.

Varric caught the movement near him and glanced up before returning to his work. “You missed him, Inquisitor. He’s in Solas’ room or whatever you call it.”

“Thanks, Varric,” she said opening the door to the rotunda.

She entered the rotunda and took in the mural. The images, from Haven’s destruction to the Arbor Wilds, disturbed her. They, along with his cryptic words before he vanished scratched at the back of her head wondering if she’d missed a critical piece or offended him. He had claimed a deep respect for her and Cullen and yet the mystery of his departure with no explanation weighed on her. Standing in his room felt wrong as if some part of him remained here and she was intruding on his solitude yet again. Cullen was not there as Varric had said. The rising fear in the silence of the room and the images of Solas’ mind depicted in eerie images sent her scurrying up the stairs to find Dorian.

Dorian grinned when Yennelyn approached. “Late night?” Dorian asked sticking his nose back into his book.

“Jealous?” She teased, prompting a loud and very real laugh from Dorian.

“Charming as usual, my dear,” he placed the book on his lap. “No, I fear that my interest leans towards your future with Cullen. I must admit, my concern has shifted from the danger you present to him to a growing concern for you. Cullen is too quiet for my liking.”

She leaned against the alcove wall. “I found a note on my chair this morning and I was sure it was another ‘see you’ letter.”

Dorian did not reply and returned to his book.

“You know something,” her accusation was quickly countered, “it’s all right, Dorian. Maybe it’s better not to tell me.”

“Yennelyn, as much as I would like to admit knowledge of Cullen’s plans; he shared nothing with me, but I can surmise there is more to come.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Flemeth and your _former_ passenger. Solas missing. Cullen’s journey is far from over.”  Yennelyn’s head dropped, softening Dorian’s features.  “Listen to me, Yennelyn. When the Inquisition releases you, we will go to Tevinter and while I would prefer to have Cullen along, it may not be possible. Will you cower or will you take a stand?” Dorian’s furrowed brow and strong stare demanded an answer.

 “I’m not backing down, Dorian.” She crouched next to his chair. “Help me finish and then we will take care of our home.”

He nodded and then jerked his head up. “He’s with Leliana. No doubt she’s adding even more useless quests to his list of things to do.”

Grasping his hand, she tried to find the right words. “That useless list of quests keeps him going,” she stood and sighed, “he gives everyone what they need most to live life.” She pointed in the general direction of the stairs and Dorian nodded.

Lifting himself out of the chair, he watched her circle around the railing towards the stairs. Dorian frowned. _Everyone except you, Yennelyn_ , he thought before returning to the alcove.

__________________________________

Leliana sighed. “Cullen, I’ll humor you, since you’ve returned in annoyingly good health. Other than the Frostback Mountains and the Deep Roads entrance on the Storm Coast, there are rifts beyond our reach. If you would focus on those two areas with the Inquisitor, we should be poised to shift our efforts to recovery.”  Leliana handed him two parchment envelopes. “As you might expect, you and the Inquisitor are expected in Denerim as time allows. I’ve sent your regrets for now, but you know how stubborn Alistair can be.”

He rolled his eyes and held up the other. “What about this one?”

Leliana looked around and leaned closed as she whispered to him. “Directions.”  His eyes widened, and she laughed at his surprise. “They are verified and accurate for whenever you’re ready, Cullen.” She’d discovered his family’s location and while she tried to maintain her smug outward appearance, she forced a cough to hide the joy in the revelation. “Now go, I have other matters to attend and having a witcher hanging about while I work is more than a distraction. Deliver this to Bull for me if you would.”

Cullen accepted the note and opened the door near Leliana’s desk.

“Cullen, Skyhold is not your personal play space. Every time you run along the rooftops, I get reports of intruders. Take the stairs, like the rest of us.” Leliana bent over her desk again.

He stood next to her and laughed. “Where’s the fun in that, Lil?” She followed him as he calmly walked out the door and winked at her before lifting himself up onto the roof.

Leliana slammed the door just as Yennelyn reached the top step. “Leliana, have you seen – “The spymaster spun to face her. By Leliana’s set jaw and clenched fists, Yennelyn didn’t need an explanation. “Is he?” She pointed up to the roof.

Leliana groaned and tried to compose herself again. “He finds this humorous, Inquisitor, this running about the rooftops? It’s madness.”

Yennelyn bit back a laugh. She didn’t have the heart to tell Leliana all his teasing and ridiculous behavior was done out of affection for her. There was no doubt Leliana would not see it for what it was. “Where was he headed?”

“To the Rest, Inquisitor. After that he may leave, but I trust he will find you before he departs.” Leliana offered.

“Departs? Leliana, where is he going?” The events of the night before, Cullen came to her early and stayed with her from the early evening until the sun rose. The note on her chair. She’d missed him several times and now instead of taking the stairs he chose the more difficult route. _He’s leaving me here,_ she concluded. Turning away without a word, she hurried down the stairs and ran to find him before he left.

___________________

“Nice. Witcher delivery service,” Bull accepted the note from Cullen. “Care to take a break?”

Cullen had grown accustomed to this tactic; polite invitations that quickly changed into a request for his help. “I’m good, thanks. Tell me what you need.”

Bull stood and stretched. “This is why I like you Cullen, no small talk just right to business. Take a walk with me.” Bull led Cullen to the training area behind the Rest as Yennelyn crossed the courtyard.

Out of breath from running, Yennelyn searched the tavern for Cullen. Walking towards to the back to find Bull, Krem called to her. “Are you all right, Inquisitor? If you’re looking for the Chief, he left with the Witcher a few minutes ago.”

“I missed him again,” Yennelyn said. Josephine’s runner appeared at the door reminding Yennelyn of her morning review with the ambassador. She returned to the main hall taking the stairs and turned towards the main gate. She whispered their simple farewell, “see you,” and slowly walked up the remaining steps. 

____________________

 Cullen returned to Yennelyn’s quarters and was surprised to find them empty and cleaned. Gone less than two hours, he’d expected to find her still asleep. Retrieving his harness and blades, Cullen paused and set them on the desk.

Before Kirkwall, leaving Yen for any period never troubled him. Cullen never doubted he would find her again. His reluctance to leave intensified after he returned from the White Spire. He blamed Alistair. It was easier.

_Alistair talked tirelessly on the return to the Frostback mountains. Cullen tuned him out at the midpoint of their journey until Alistair tossed items from his pack at him._

_“You’re not listening, old man,” he started, “I’m serious. I understand this is complicated.”_

_Cullen stared sideways at Alistair._

_Huffing at his friend’s oblivious stare, Alistair explained. “You and Yennelyn. She’s complicated,” he scoffed, “you, old man, complicated doesn’t begin to explain. What would be so terrible about stopping all this nonsense and finding someplace for the two of you?”_

_He grumbled aloud before he caught himself. “Alistair, we’ve been through this.”_

_“No, we haven’t. You make that ridiculous noise and attempt to shut me up,” Alistair countered._

_“Is it working?” He quipped. Alistair was right- Cullen preferred to let this topic die each time it was brought up._

_Alistair continued his lecture. “You can try to do that scary voice of yours and attempt to dissuade, old man, but you do care for her and I think you’re afraid.”_

_Cullen laughed as he talked. “I’m -I’m what? Alistair, stop, you really don’t understand.” He glanced to his right and shook his head. “It’s not fear, Alistair. Every day there is a request for help and since Kirkwall, every single request is worse than the last. What happens to Yen if I don’t come back? She’s changed, she far stronger and more focused than before. There’s one problem – one person who can unsettle her and that is me. This little rescue attempt illustrates how much of a distraction I am for her.”_

Looking out over the mountains, Cullen reminded himself that the time for contemplation was over. The desire to prove he needed to help those around him and give weight to Cullen Stanton Rutherford urged him forward daily. But now it was time to let Yen, and those he cared about live on without him.  If Morrigan could get him through the Eluvians, he would have to pursue Flemeth even if it may be his final task.

______________________                                                                                                                           

Yennelyn returned to her quarters following her meeting with Josephine. She’d made it clear yet again, there would be no discussions of marriage proposals. The contentment she’d enjoyed dissolved into the same stoicism she worn in Tevinter until she left for Ostwick.  She’d grown accustomed to Cullen’s absences and Yennelyn clung to the fantasy of growing old with him and disappearing into obscurity.

The truth was easier to ignore. When she removed the Archon, she would remain in Tevinter to help those better suited to lead the Imperium. She’d imagined a future with Cullen, one that could not exist. Alone in her quarters, she hoped to find a distraction for the growing emptiness.

She fell into her chair and exhaled noisily.

“Yen?” Cullen’s surprised voice called from somewhere nearby.

 Stepping through the double doors, Cullen took in her shocked expression. “You left. I came back to find you. Two hours, that’s it and you disappeared. I’m hurt,” Cullen smirked leaning against the door frame. “Did you get my note?”

She was struck by the sudden change in Cullen’s expression. The confidence disappeared as he handed a parchment to her. “It’s from Alistair, we’ve been summoned.”

“Is that right? Isn’t that interesting,” her flat expression and delivery was a clue she knew he was hiding something from her.

“Alistair is used to me ignoring him, but for now Lil has sent our regrets.” Cullen explained.

She fanned herself with the parchment, a sly grin and pointed stare set a playful mood. “Maybe I want to see Alistair again.”

Her reaction to the invitation caught him off guard. His eyes widened, “What? I thought-“

Laughing she walked towards him. “I’m teasing, Cullen. Had I realized you might actually be jealous of him, I might have talked him into returning here.”

Cullen tried to seem indifferent, but the frown that darkened his face spoke to his discomfort. “You’re free to do as you please, Yen.” Cullen was jealous of anyone who could give Yen the life she deserved. Alistair would never betray Solona, but he was more of a man in Cullen’s estimation.

Her gentle teasing continued. “Sure, he was a Grey Warden and is a King, but he’s _far too ordinary_ for my tastes.” She winked and his features softened.

Cullen chuckled and shook his head. She’d found an exposed nerve, and he fell for it. Cullen stared at the second parchment in his hand.

She paused at his strange silence, expecting his usual banter.   Her confusion grew as he said nothing and turned the parchment over and over in his hands. Yennelyn waited before he looked up at her.

 “Mia,” he said, waiving the parchment, “it’s not a letter from her, but Leliana gave me directions on where to find . . . my family,” he explained.

“You should go to them, Cullen,” her soft voice meant to comfort and support him, “Mia reminded me of you. She was so full of fire when she arrived.” Yennelyn laughed and crossed the floor to join him. “She argued with Leliana and Cassandra about their _deplorable_ efforts to retrieve you. Dorian tried his usual sweet words and instead I recall she threatened to knock him ‘on his ass’ were her exact words.”

Cullen imagined Dorian completely floored when his charm could not sway Mia. “Dorian must have been beside himself.”

She hummed in agreement and nodded. “This may not be the right time for you, but I’ll ride with you whenever you’re ready.” Yennelyn grabbed his hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

He wondered if he’d ever be ready. Yen’s presence would help him, but now was not the time.  “Yen, nothing would make me happier to travel with you and see if it’s possible to find a part of my past.” Cullen turned from her and stepped out onto the balcony.

She followed squeezing between the railing and his body to wrap her arms around his waist. “But that is not who you are, is it?” She hugged him and when he returned her affections, she was struck by a terrible awareness. “You’re not staying, are you?”

Looking up into his face, there was such affection and a gentleness in his eyes she hoped for a denial. Yennelyn gripped at his arms and tunic trying to draw strength from him. His answer was clear even before he spoke and in spite of their closeness, every part of her sensed the impending separation.

He pulled her deeper into his embrace. “No, Yen I’m not staying. You have more work to do and you have good people around you.”

She sighed into his chest and tapped her forehead against his shoulder. “I know there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

“You could tell me to stop,” he whispered to her, “I might If you ask.”

The intensity of his admission surprised her. _He’s giving himself a way out of whatever he has planned,_ she thought _, I could ask._ Perhaps a few years ago she would have asked him to stop, but not now. Cullen was a Witcher. Yennelyn understood what it meant after all these years. He walked where others would not. Even the spirits of the Fade looked to him for help and in his footsteps others followed to the light. Dorian, Bull, Blackwall their loyalty to her came from friendships cultivated by Cullen.  She pushed him away.

“Look at me, Cullen. I can’t take you from Thedas. I should have known it was not my journey I saw all those years ago, but yours.” Yennelyn sidled around him and returned to her desk.

Cullen joined her, something in her words a finality – or an end disturbed him.  “Yen, what are you saying? I was sure you would prefer that I stay.”

“Cullen, if you want to stay or go it has to be your choice, not mine.” She dropped into her chair. “Who’s stuck in the children’s tale this time? Look at everything that has happened. Don’t you see? When you left Tevinter why did you return to Ferelden?” She stood and stared at him. “Cullen, knowing the danger you might face, _why did you return to Ferelden_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments, insights and encouragements!


	24. Vanished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen shares the tale of how he came to be in Ferelden before the Blight.

 

_“Cullen, knowing the danger you might face, why did you return to Ferelden?”_

Yennelyn’s question was years overdue. He’d dismissed her acceptance of his past as complete trust. She never questioned the veracity of the little he shared nor did Yen attempt to pry information from him as to his travels before meeting in Rivain. There was so much he purposefully hid from her, not for her protection but because it stressed his failures.  If there was ever a time to reveal a part of his past, this was it. Her smile of encouragement did little for him as he shared the story.

“I was at the Spoiled Princess. The tavern was as close as I could get to the Circle at Kinloc Hold without alerting the Templars.” Cullen crossed the room to the fireplace and leaned on the mantle. “I think I was hoping to get any kind of news or maybe just find work.  The inn was small and didn’t give me much in the way of a place to disappear.”

**9:30 Dragon Lake Calenhad, The Spoiled Princess**

_It’s all in the blood,_ Cullen thought, _Templar, mage, Warden, Seeker.  They don’t realize they’re all the same tainted or touched by magic; to me there is no difference._

He sat in the far corner hidden by the bar and the innkeeper. Cullen’s room is paid, and he waited, perhaps for nothing in particular. His hair and face hidden by a heavy cloak. _Templars._ Cullen smiled to himself. _Not the friendliest bunch. I’d prefer to be overlooked._

The innkeeper didn’t mind the Witcher’s presence; a stern look to drunks or bandits and they’d run off sure that a demon had taken over the small tavern. Cullen’s drinks were free. He stared in the mug when the faint hum from his medallion pulled Cullen to full guard. His head was still bent forward, but the Witcher was not idle. He searched the room for the source of the medallion’s warning. Strong magic hummed outside the inn. Cullen approached the bar.

“Go upstairs and lock the doors behind you,” he told the man and slipped behind the bar. The two men still sitting at the tables took one look at the Witcher and scurried out into the night.

The hum increased and Cullen’s senses slipped far beneath the surface to recall the sensation. _Darkspawn_.   He’d faced only a few that slipped through cracks and holes but the pull was unmistakable. “A hurlock walks into a bar. . .” He chuckled and stashed his sword on the shelf below him, surprised to see the runes glow on both swords.

His swords bore Ancient Tevene Runes branded into the star metal, one for man, the other for creatures.  Cullen knew the swords by feel, the silver used for demons, darkspawn and creatures of magic. The other carried runes for man and beast. The riddle of why both glowed less important than what approached the bar. Cullen’s answer was not as simple as it sounded. _Man and monster_ , he thought.

Cullen tried to recall every lesson, every tome in search of an answer.  _Acasius_. Both swords always glowed when he trained with Acasius. He wondered if the visitor be another Witcher.  Cullen released his hair band and pulled his hood down over his eyes.

Acasius taught him that a Witcher survives because his scent is of musty earth and grassy plains. He hides in plain sight - the perfect hunter. Cullen shifted into the hunt.

Cullen’s prey is close. Shade snorts a warning from outside. Cullen tunes his senses to the surrounding sounds: the quiet slap of water against the rocks, the hum of water bugs on the tall grass near the lake’s edge . . . and something more. Voices. Men not demons converse nearby, one is younger and tried to speak forcefully, but Cullen hears a quiver – an uncertainty to the man’s words. The other, older, calm but direct. He could be a Witcher, but Cullen never found evidence of survivors from the Secret Wars.

He pushes the thoughts from his head and focuses deeper on the older of the two men. Rustling fabric muffles the sound of armor but the gentle scrape of scale upon scale is still discernable. The door to the inn opens slowly, a strange action considering most when entering a tavern are loud and boisterous. Evening breezes carry the scent of wood smoke and spice, and Cullen is reminded of Rivain or Antiva and the pungent scents used in soaps and oils. Cullen picks up a mug and wipes it with a rag, ignoring the man as he enters.

 “Your horse warned you,” the man started, “a curious thing for a barkeep to own such an intelligent animal.” His voice did not challenge- he stated his observation and waited. 

Cullen watched as the man sat down several tables away, another curious action.  “Get you a drink?” Cullen asked with the same inflection. He noticed the harness on the man’s back. _Dual wield_ , he thought _, not a Templar, Seekers prefer sword and shield and mages would rather spit than touch a sword._

Cullen moved first. “What’s a Warden doing at Lake Calenhad?”

“What’s a Witcher doing tending bar?”  The man chuckled lightly and nodded in acknowledgement.

Cullen placed the mug at the end of the table for the Warden and moved away. “That depends on one thing, Warden.”  He returned behind the bar and waited.

“I am not here for you, Witcher. I am curious. You have not attacked and I am certain your weapons rest within your reach. Why is that, I wonder? Does the innkeeper live?”

Cullen sidled out from behind the bar and pounded on the door shouting to the barkeep. “You can come out now.” He pulled his hood back and the Warden’s lack of expression surprised him.  “You’ve seen my kind before.” 

 “Witchers, yes, but not like you. Who are you?” He stood but did not approach. “My name is Duncan and you are most correct, I am a Grey Warden on business for the King of Ferelden.”

“Cullen. You will forgive my manners but I prefer not to shake hands.” Acasius had taught Cullen about the Wardens and the Taint. Warriors turned by blood- any contact with their darkspawn link would cloud Cullen’s mind and burn his skin.

Duncan gestured to the table next to his. “Would you sit and talk? There is something about you, so unlike the others I have met.” Duncan sighed and continued. “Before you ask, they did not survive. One tried to join the Wardens, and the other did not live; his wounds too severe from an attack by the Seekers.”

“The Wardens did not help the Seekers during the Secret Wars?” Cullen had not been one of the hunted.

“I cannot speak for all, but I did not hunt the Witchers.” The frown on Duncan’s face surprised Cullen.

He wondered if Acasius had lied to him about the Wardens. There were still so many questions to ask but Cullen tried to focus on the purpose of the Warden’s visit. “The Templar guard wouldn’t let you across?” A simple nod confirmed what Cullen had heard earlier.

“The Templar guard at the dock told me I arrived far too late to disturb the First Enchanter, even though I am expected.” Duncan offered information as though he’d known Cullen for some time. He was recruiting for the Wardens. There was a need for reinforcements to prepare for the encroaching horde and Duncan was one of a few seeking new recruits to add to the Wardens and aid King Cailan. He hoped to find a few willing to help within the Circle. If Ferelden faced a Blight, they would need help.

“None of this concerns me, Warden.” Cullen returned to the bar and retrieved his swords. “Maker watch over your endeavors, Warden. May he grant the King the wisdom to see the dangers before him.”

Cullen covered his head and moved towards the door.

“You could help me Cullen.” Duncan stood but did not approach. “Would you consider lending your skills to the King?”

“A Witcher in service to the King – unless you are of high rank it’s not likely.” Cullen continued towards the door.  “You’re trying to recruit me and I can assure you Warden, I have no wish to tempt fate and join the Wardens. I’m a monster, remember, no better than the darkspawn.”

The Warden’s expression did not change.  “Perhaps, but you did not attack, and you have been more civil than the young Templar outside. Why are _you_ here, Cullen?”

“I’m chasing a memory, a ghost. I should bury it, but instead I’ve been here.” Cullen opened the door. “The room is paid in full, it’s yours, Warden.”

Duncan nodded. “I thank you, Cullen. I would like to try again with our young friend to gain passage across the lake, but if it is not meant to be, the room is most welcome. Maker watch over you, Cullen.”

Shade waited patiently for Cullen to secure his pack and Cullen dismissed the hum from his medallion as Duncan crossed the grassy hill towards the Templar. The young recruit raised his voice to the Warden. He could never abide disrespect and strode quickly to Duncan’s side. Axii drawn and without flourish Cullen clouded the young Templar’s mind. “The Warden will take the boat and return soon. I was never here.”

Confusion clouded the young Templar’s face. Under the influence of Cullen’s Axii sign, he repeated his instructions. “The Warden will take the boat.”

Pulling the boat into the water, Cullen waited for Duncan. “I’ll take you across and wait, if you don’t mind my company?”

Duncan watched Cullen curiously. The ease at which Cullen prepared the boat spoke of familiarity. Cullen found the stowed oars quickly, and the tie off line uncoupled with ease. “You’ve done this before?” Duncan questioned as Cullen sat backwards facing him to row. “It is a curious thing to row facing away from your destination.”

“It’s much harder to row this boat facing the Tower, I learned what was easier after-“ Cullen stopped realizing he’d forgotten himself and he tried to recover his blunder. “Witcher senses, nothing more.”

“Keep your memories, Witcher they are yours to guard.” Duncan continued. “A Witcher in service to Ferelden’s king would be afforded protection from those who would hunt him.” The offer was plainly spoken.

 “Ferelden’s king would grant sanctuary to me? Too much darkspawn blood has clouded your mind.  To secure a royal decree, I’d have to save the king’s life and that would mean getting close enough not to be cut to shreds by guards, Templars and Wardens. No, I’ll take my chances. If this is a Blight, I’ll find the Archdemon.”

Witcher and Warden conversed as Cullen ferried Duncan across to the tower. Duncan asked Cullen to join him at Ostagar where he would present Cullen to King Cailan. By the time they reached the docks, Cullen had agreed to consider the offer.

“Warden, I will think about your offer and that will have to be enough.”  Cullen held the boat steady until Duncan stood firm on the dock. “I will wait here, Warden; if the First Enchanter has retired, you can’t stay in the entryway.”

“Thank you, Cullen. It seems your ghost still clings to you. I would request your help further. Your skills have been helpful and the sooner I can complete my mission here I can return to Ostagar.”

Cullen led Duncan from the dock to the entrance of the tower and stopped before he knocked on the door.  “I fell for that, didn’t I? Fine. Ferelden, in another life, was my home. “

There was a kindness to Duncan’s voice. Cullen had never met a Grey Warden before and his understanding of them painted a ruthless picture of lawless men and women who would seek his head.

“Cullen, your past –you will face it one day. I didn’t ask nor do I expect you to tell me what happened to you. Come with me and at least allow me to repay your kindness.”

Duncan was expected, and the two were shown to the First Enchanter’s office. Cullen kept his hood up obstructing his eyes until the First Enchanter asked him to remove it.

“I prefer to see to whom I am speaking.” Irving was old but sharp, the magic within him had not diminished with age.

Duncan attempted to intervene, but Irving insisted. Cullen removed the hood and waited for the Templars to come for him, to his surprise Irving returned to his chair and sat.  “I remember you. You’re dead. I sent condolences to your family. One of you talk quickly and explain.”

“The Witcher is under my protection and is a friend to Ferelden.” Duncan’s words left no doubt. “I intend to take him to Cailan.”

Irving shooed the thought with his hand. “You know as well as I, just stick a paper in front of the boy and he’ll sign away the kingdom.  Fine. What do you want from me, Witcher?”

“If you have need of me, leave word at the tavern. I will answer any call for help.” Cullen offered.

The First Enchanter smiled. “Is that right? It seems your creators failed, you’re almost human.” Irving seemed to examine Cullen as he tilted his head left and right before continuing to speak. “That sense of duty will come for you in the end, my young friend. Your offer is accepted.”  Irving reached into his desk, wrote several lines and handed the paper to Cullen. “There. Safe passage. You would do well to follow Duncan and not wait around here, but I accept your offer – protect the Tower and the mages within.”

Deep blue eyes flashed in his head. A laugh, a blush and then the images faded away. _She would never accept me. None of them would._ Instead he swore to Irving he would stay at the inn until needed.

Duncan requested a parchment slip and the quill. A few brief sentences and Cullen pocketed another slip of paper. “Show that at the gate to Ostagar, but stay clear of Loghain Mac Tir and his men.  In my absence, seek another Warden, his name is Alistair.”

______________________

Cullen wandered back towards Yennelyn and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I arrived after Ostagar fell, although I can’t say what delayed me. Every turn towards the south, another problem, another call for help.”

She stretched backwards to meet his face. “Cullen, you never told me. Ostagar, no one survived.”

“Alistair and Solona did,” he said, “maybe I could have prevented Duncan’s death or saved the King. Instead I was chasing bandits and thieves.”

Sliding out of the chair, she folded herself into his arms and held him. “Your Maker had plans for you.”

Cullen seemed to ignore her and continued in his reverie “When I saw the carnage on the bridge, I knew I had to return to the Circle. At first, the Templars argued with Irving about my presence until the unrest began. Little things at first, small changes in behavior. The Templars dismissed my concerns. They called me ‘freak’ and ‘monster’. All the while the Circle was spiraling out of control.  Only Irving charged me to stay vigilant but I couldn’t save them.”

She brushed her lips against his. “It is not your purpose to save every life.”

A hint of a frown startled her. “Isn’t it? _Yen,_ look at me. How many times did I live when I should have died? Tevinter? The Blight? I should have died at the Tower, or Kirkwall, and what of the Red Templars -  I could have _been_ one of them, Yen.”

She pushed him away and grasped his arm. “Leave here. Go far away. Please, Cullen.” The laugh that shook him unnerved her. “You’re _laughing_? I tell you to go and you _laugh_?” The mix of frustration and confusion at his reaction only intensified as he continued.

“I don’t run away Yen,” he pulled her towards him and she tried to move away, ”don’t try it, you’ll lose, love.”

She stopped. “You called me-“

“Yes, I know, every so often I break my own rules. I can’t leave. Not when you still need me, Yen.” Cullen won the playful tug of war between them and held her to him. He inhaled her scent and sighed.   “You know I hate the Deep Roads, you start there, and I’ll meet you in the Frostback Mountains in three months. I know of this out of the way fishing village, an empty cottage and I can promise my _full_ attention.”

She huffed in jest, “Until someone’s cat is stuck in a tree, or a child loses a doll.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead and then pulled her closer. “I promise.  No cats, no lost dolls - you and me.”

“Will you at least tell me where I might find you?” Yennelyn pulled away and looked into his eyes. “A hint?”

Another pull to him, another kiss and he headed towards the stairs. “Hunting,” he said turning to face her, “I love you, Princess, see you.”

She stood frozen listening to him walk down the staircase until she broke free of her thoughts and ran to the railing, “I hate it when you call me Princess!” Yennelyn realized she’d forgotten to say goodbye and called out after him. “See you!”

His laughter continued until the door closed blocking out the sounds from the stairwells.

_________________________

Cullen returned to the garden to find Morrigan. “What do you have for me?”

Morrigan shook her head as she met him near the Eluvian door. “Follow me.”  She opened the door to the small anteroom and led Cullen to the Eluvian. “Here, ‘tis a simple talisman. It will require your blood to charge It and will wane over time. When it does, charge the talisman again.”

 _It’s all in the blood_ , Cullen thought as he looked at her.  Morrigan’s discomfort, her unwillingness to meet his eyes made it clear she did not want to be a part of what was to come. “There’s more, isn’t there, Morrigan.”

She snarled and stared at him. “You cannot do this, Cullen. While ‘tis true you have somehow navigated nearly ever foul creature and demon Thedas has thrown in your path – you _cannot_ win.”

He shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. “Morrigan, you’re stalling- out with it. I know the risks.“

She pushed him out of the way and stalked towards the door. “No, you don’t. You . . .only a fool walk ~~s~~ blindly into an unwinnable fight. Cullen, I cannot say how you have managed all this time to survive the dangers you have faced but here you stand. If you travel these roads, you will be _alone_. There can be no rescue. I cannot guarantee you will return. I will not be held accountable for your loss to those that matter to you.”

Cullen said nothing and his silence only pushed her further.

 Morrigan struggled to contain her anger, her fists clenched as she leaned forward, rigidly holding herself back from confronting him up close. “Of all the stubborn . . . misguided . . .  half-witted . . . you do not understand what you face!” Seeing his disinterest in her tirade she threw up her hands and continued. “’Tis useless to dissuade you, I see you will go no matter what the warning. The talisman is only half the key, you will have to trick the Eluvian and use your Axii sign.” 

“Thank you, Morrigan, and while I appreciate your concern, I’ve got this.” Cullen turned towards the Eluvian, slipped the talisman over his head and drew the Axii sign and watched as the Eluvian shimmered to life.

“ _Wait, Cullen,_ please!” She hurried towards him and reached out to touch his arm. “Mother . . . Mythal - you can’t fight a god.”

“Watch me.” Cullen pulled away from Morrigan stepped into the Eluvian.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments, insights and encouragements!


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eluvian takes Cullen to the Crossroads and a decision.

 

_The Crossroads . . ._

His eyes adjusted to dull pallor around him before his body acclimated. A streak of lightning stabbed through the sky above him. Cullen moved away from Morrigan’s mirror to a violent crack and furious thunder. The clouds above him flickered in alarm.

“You don’t want me here, do you?” Cullen stepped cautiously on the stone paths. A lightning bolt split a tree in response. He staggered backwards from the auditory force of the thunder that followed. Deafening to most, Cullen’s momentary disorientation subsided. “All right, I won’t stay long. Whatever you are, I will return – get used to me now.”

Be it spirits, true sentience or just his imagination, this was not the Crossroads Yen described. She spoke of ethereal beauty, mist and shadow. The trees, stones, and even the Eluvians themselves were decaying, crumbling under the inescapable weight of time.

Careful steps lead Cullen towards the center, taking his time to quell the growing agitation in this space between reality and the Veil. The clouds bubbled and swirled sending gusts of wind meant to keep Cullen away. “You can’t hide from me and it disturbs you.”  Yen experienced an illusion, a glamour. This is the reality. Death and decay, loneliness and anger at the abandonment - the magic craved more than it received.

As he moved towards the right side, his medallion sprung to life. The intensity of the hum was greater than any other single experience to his memory. “Found you,” he said. The energy was not corporeal, not Flemeth herself, but the strength of the medallion’s reaction was too intense to ignore.  

Off to the right of him, a small alcove held an enormous mirror. However, his eyes spotted a body on the cracked stone path and the discovery forced him to run. He knew it was she even before he knelt down. “Flemeth,” Cullen sighed as he looked over her corpse _. It’s just a shell, nothing of her remains._

“No marks, no burns and I can’t find anything on her skin to indicate she was injured.” Cullen took in her withered skin, the strange dark tinge to her body. “Strange. I’ve never seen this before on a body from any race in Thedas. It’s almost as though she didn’t die, but her essence was removed from her body.”  Cullen stood and looked around. “What was the medallion reacting to if not the body?”

Kneeling, Cullen closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. A warm light filled the alcove, and he smiled. “Like that feeling, don’t you,” he said aloud, “be nice to me and I’ll share.” He continued to address whatever existed in the Crossroads as though it heard him speak. Cullen reached out for any lingering remnants of magic.

An image of crimson silks and violet light flashed before him. “Razikale. Someone took you away from Flemeth. I might be able to follow her.” Cullen took another deep breath and allowed the magic to flow around him.  A clouded curtain obstructed his view, but the Veil was undeniably behind it and the hint of the familiar – akin to the Anchor and ancient. He could not lift the curtain to see what had walked here.  He felt the strength of power lingering around the large mirror. Whatever walked, entered the mirror alone.

Cullen snapped to full awareness as the winds threatened him again and the skies darkened.   _The Anchor, the rifts, the Eluvians everything is connected and you behind it all._ The name of his target fresh in his mind, the reaction of the Crossroads proved Cullen correct.  “All right, no more games _Solas_. Where are you?”

Checking his harness and blades, Cullen tightened the straps on his armor. Axii sign drawn, the Eluvian flickered to life. 

Behind him, lies the way home and Yennelyn. Before him lay the hunt and a decision to be made.

 A silent prayer.

A deep breath.

_Who am I? I have worn many names, many faces. I will leave them all behind to become a hunter. I leave Thedas to those I trust._

_My Yen, I know you will forgive me._

_There is no one else who can travel these roads and I’ve made my decision. My name is Cullen Stanton Rutherford and I’m a Witcher._

                                                                            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks to InannaAthanasia for the nudge in this direction. Thank you to Replica_Jester for dealing with my insanity throughout the process! Thank you to felandaris for her beta work!! 
> 
> Finally, thank you to those who've enjoyed this little journey with me. Cullen will return in the future. 
> 
> More Witcher and Thedas crossover/mashup on the way. A Witcher in Thedas: The Secret Wars is in development. (See chapter 2 of this fic for a refresher)


	26. Preview of Cullen Rutherford: The Last Witcher

The best secret keepers are the dead. To trust in the silence of someone who lives places a burden on both parties. Dorian Pavus felt the weight of his promise sneaking out into the night, concern speeding him through darkened alleyways. Practitioners of forbidden magic remained in Tevinter despite the Archon’s hunts, and for those who sought the illicit arts, the price often proved more precious than any purse might hold.

 _Slinking about Minrathous_ , _she cares nothing for her safety_ , he thought, _I should have sent Yennelyn back the moment she arrived._  Several weeks prior, a messenger announced what proved to be another challenge for Dorian.

_“It’s not that I fail to see the grander picture Mae, I agree there is much we can do. All I am saying is our moves must be strategic and not without a plan.” Dorian crossed out several more inflammatory remarks from the parchment and handed it back. Leaning back in his chair, a waiting messenger pulled his attention. “Yes, what is it?”_

_“A message Magister Pavus, the sender specified a private delivery.” The messenger gave a slight nod to Dorian’s guest Maeveris Tilani._

_“I have nothing to hide from Magister Tilani, deliver your message.” Dorian waited._

_“It’s all right, my friend, I have no desire to listen to the latest gossip. Besides, you’ll tell me everything later.” She flashed a bright smile and gave a slow wink before leaving his office._

_Once alone, the messenger handed his paper over. The message-cryptic and yet familiar in writing style held Dorian’s attention as he read the few lines. A location in the heart of the city, the time chosen well after the usual but it was the last line of text revealing his guest’s identity and the myriad of problems dumped at his feet._

_Where is he? –Yen_

_Cullen's story will continue_

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of the Chant of Light used throughout this are not my words. They are as are the characters in the Dragon Age Universe property of BioWare. The Witcher aspects of this story belong to CD Projekt based on the Witcher created by Andrzej Sapkowski.
> 
> If you enjoy the story leave a comment or if you see room for improvement or want to share more, find me on tumblr: melaena


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